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‘You Want Us To Lose This Race, You Sawney!” He Exclaimed. 
(From Soa to Sea) (Page 135) 


From Sea to Sea 


Or 

Clint Webb’s Cruise on the 
Windjammer 



Author of 

The Frozen Ship; or, Clint Webb Among: the Sealers. 
Swept Out to Sea; or, Clint Webb Among the 
Whalers. The Ocean Express; or. Glint 
Webb and the Sea Tramp. 



Chicago 

M. A. Donohue & Co. 


Ojpyright 1914 
M. A, Donohue & Company 
Chicago 


-4 ISf4" 



'J’nAUJ 


CONTENTS 


>. 

X 


Chapter Page 

I — I Shield a Friend and Make an Enemy . . 7 

II — I Relate My History and Stand Up to a 

Bully 15 

III — The Bubble of My Conceit Is Pricked .... 27 

IV — Captain Bowditch Crowds On Sail and 

There Is Much Excitement 37 

V — We See a Ship Sailing in the Sky 47 

VI — The Gullwing Suffers a Ghostly Visitation. 54 

VII — Is Pictured a Race in Mid-Ocean 64 

VIII — It Seems That a Prophecy Will Be Ful- 
filled 72 

IX — I Pass Through Deep Waters 80 

X — The Impossible Becomes the Possible. ... 88 

XI — I See That There Is Tragedy in This Ocean 

Race 96 

XII — The Captain^s Dog Goes Overboard 103 

XIII — I Learn a Deal About Sea Monsters in 

General and the Giant Squid in Par- 
ticular 110 

XIV— A Signal Retards the Race 121 

XV — ^We Have a Race in Good Earnest 131 

XVI — I Return to the Gullwing — and With My 

Arms Full 138 


XVII — ^We Leam the Particulars of the Wreck 

of the Galland 146 

XVIII — I Become Better Acquainted with Phillis 

Duane 156 

XIX^I Leam Something More About the 

Barney Twins 164 

XX— Phillis Tells Me of Her Dream 172 

XXI — The Sister Ships Once More Race Neck 

and Neck 179 

XXII — The Capes of Virginia Are in Sight 189 

XXIII — ^We Escape Death by the Breadth of a 

Hair 197 

XXIV — The Tragedy of the Racing Ships Is Com- 
pleted 203 

XXV — A Very Serious Question Is Discussed. ... 210 

XXVI — Is Told How the Barney Boys Go Ashore . . 219 

XXVII — I Receive a Telegram That Troubles Me. 227 

XXVIII — My Homecoming Proves To Be a Strange 

One Indeed 234 

XXIX — Mr. Chester Downes and I Again ‘^Lock 

Homs” 241 

XXX — My Welcome Home Is a Real Welcome 

After All 249 


From Sea to Sea 

Or, 

Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 

Chapter I 

In Which I Shield a Friend and Make an Enemy 

The after port anchor had come inboard 
before I stepped over the rail of the Gnllwing, 
,knd leaped to the deck. The starboard and port 
bowers were both catted and fished and the 
stay-fore-sail had filled to pay off her head. 

The wind was blowing directly on shore; the 
current ran parallel with the land; there was no 
choice of direction in getting the big four-master 
under weigh, and she was headed into the stream. 

A clarion voice shouted from the poop: 

‘'Haul main-tack! 

"Come aft with that sheet! 

"Set jib and spanker! Look alive there! 

"Mr. Gates! see if youcanT get some action 
out of your watch!” 

"Aye, aye, sir!” from the mate. 

"Helm a-lee! hard a-lee!” 


8 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


^^Hard a-lee she is!’’ growled the helmsman, 
a great, hairy, two-fisted salt, with an enormous 
quid of tobacco in one cheek, a cast in his eye, 
and his blue shirt so wide open at the throat 
that we could catch a glimpse of a dashing look- 
ing mermaid, in blue and red, upon his chest. 

^^Set fore-sail! Be alive, there, Mr. Barney. 
Those men of yours act as stiff as Paddy’s 
father — and him nine days dead!” 

The stamping of the men on the deck as 
they hauled on the ropes, a confusion of cries 
from those in the tops, the squeal of the cables 
running over the drum, the coughing of the 
donkey-engine amidships by which the huge 
anchors had been started from the bottom of 
Valpariso roadstead, and the general bustle and 
running about, kept Thankful Polk — who had 
followed me aboard the big, four-stick schooner 
— and I right there by the rail, where we would 
be out of the way. Thankful gave me a sly 
glance, as he whispered : 

reckon we’ve caught a Tartar in Cap’n 
Joe Bowditch — what?” 

But I had noted the lines about the skipper’s 
mouth and the wrinkles at the corners of his 
quick, gray eyes. Those lines and wrinkles had 
not been graved in the old sea-captain’s face by 
any long-standing grouch. Captain Bowditch 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 9 

was a man who liked his joke; and even his 
voice as he bawled orders from the quarter had 
a tang of good-nature to it that was not to be 
mistaken. 

reckon well get along all right with him, 
if we play the game straight,” I observed to my 
chum, and turned then to wave my cap to Cap’n 
Hi Rogers, of the whaling bark Scarboro, who 
was now being rowed back to his own ship 
after leaving us to the tender mercies of Cap’n 
Bowditch. 

‘^By hickey !” exclaimed the boy from Georgia, 
glancing now along the deck, ain’t she a 
monster? Looks a mile from the wheel to the 
break of the fo’castle.” 

It was the largest sailing vessel I had ever 
been aboard of myself. The Scarboro was a 
good sized bark, but as we crossed her stern 
we could look down upon the whaler’s deck and 
wave our hats to the friendly crew that had 
been so kind to us. Only a single scowling face 
was raised to ours as the GuUwing swept on, a 
creamy wave breaking either side of her sharp 
bow. This face belonged to my cousin, Paul 
Downes, who scowled at me and shook his fist. 
But I merely smiled back at him. I thought 
that — at length — could afford to laugh at my 
cousin’s threats. I was bound straight for home 


10 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


aboard the Gull wing; he had eighteen months, 
or more, to serve aboard the whaling bark. 

Seeing that both the captain and the mates 
were too busy just then to bother with us, 
Thank and I strolled forward. It was a long, 
long deck — and the boards were as white as 
stone and water could make them. There was 
some litter about just now, of course; but from 
the look of the whole ship I made up my mind 
right then and there that if Captain Bowditch 
was a martinet in anything, it was in the line of 
neatness and order. The slush tub beside the 
galley door was freshly painted and had a tight 
cover; there was no open swill bucket to gather 
flies; the cook^s wiping towels had been boiled 
out and were now hung upon a patent drying 
rack fastened to the house, and were as white 
and clean as the wash of a New England house- 
wife. Every bit of brightwork shone and where 
paint was needed it had been newly put on with 
no niggard hand. As the sails were broke out 
and spread to catch the light wind, many of 
them were white-new, while those that were 
patched had been overboard for a good sousing 
before being bent on again. Oh, the Gullwing 
was a smart ship, with a smart skipper, and a 
smart crew; one could appraise these facts with 
half an eye. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 1 1 

Makes you think you ought to have wiped 
your feet on the mat before stepping in, eh?” 
chuckled Thank. “I bet we got to a place at 
last, Sharp, where we’re bound to work. That 
old feller with the whiskers up there could spot 
a fly-speck on the flying jib-boom. I wonder 
he don’t have brass cuspidors setting ’round for 
the deck- watch!” 

Compared with the frowzy old vessels, cap- 
tained and manned by foreigners, that make 
American ports, this American ship, American 
skippered, and American manned, was a lady’s 
parlor. She’s a beauty,” I said. ^^We may 
work for our pay — whatever it is to be — ^but 
thank’s be ’tis no sealing craft. The stench of 
the old Gypsey Girl will never be out of my 
nostrils.” 

We stood about for a few minutes longer, 
trying to keep out of the way of the busy crew; 
but one husky, red faced fellow came sliding 
down the backstays and landed square on 
Thank’s head and shoulders, pitching him to the 
deck. 

Get out o’ the way, you two young sawneys!” 
growled this fellow. Don’t you know enough 
to keep out from under foot?’*’ 

Thank had picked himself up quickly and 
turned with his usual good-natured grin. It 


12 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

was hard for anybody to pick a quarrel with 
Thankful Polk. 

“My law-dee, Mister!’^ he exclaimed. “Is 
that the way you usually come from aloft? 
Lucky I was right here to cushion ye, eh?’’ 

The red faced fellow, without a word, swung 
at him with his hard fist doubled. I was a 
pretty sturdy fellow myself, with more weight 
than my chum, and I saw no reason for letting 
him receive that blow when interference was so 
easy. I stepped in and the bully crashed 
against my shoulder, his blow never reaching 
Thank. Nor did he hurt me, either. His col- 
lision with my shoulder threw him off his 
balance and he sprawled upon the deck, striking 
his head hard. He rolled over and blinked up 
at me for half a minute, too stunned to realize 
what had happened to him. 

The encounter was seen by half a dozen of the 
men, but none of the officers spied us. The 
spectators laughed as though they hugely en- 
joyed the discomfiture of the bully. 

“Sarves ye right. Bob Promise,” muttered 
one of the A. B.s; “I bet ye got more than ye 
bargained for in that youngster.” 

“Caught a Tartar, eh. Bob?” scoffed another 
man. 

The fellow on the deck “came to” then, and 


Clint Webb's Cruise on the Windjammer 13 

sprang up with every apparent intention of 
attacking me. I had shielded my chum, but 
it was plain that I had made an enemy. 

teach ye, ye young swab!'' Bob ejacu- 
lated, and started for me. 

But the others interfered. Several hustled the 
bully back. 

^'None o' that. Bob Promise!'* exclaimed the 
first speaker. We'll have the old man down 
here in a second." 

^‘I'll break that feller's neck!" cried Bob. 

‘^1 dunno whether ye will or not — in a stand 
up fight," drawled another of his shipmates. 
‘^He looks like he could take care of himself." 

I had involuntarily fallen into an attitude of 
self-defense. That is where I had the ad- 
vantage of Thank ; I knew something about box- 
ing, and although the bully was heavier and 
older than I, it was pretty certain that he had no 
science. At any rate I wasn't going to let him 
think I was afraid of him. 

'^You wait!" growled Bob Promise. “You 
stand up to me in the watch below, and I'll eat 
you alive." 

I had an idea that if he did I should disagree 
with his stomach badly; but I did not say this. 
I don't think I am naturally a quarrelsome fel- 
low, if I am impulsive. Nor did I wish to get in 


14 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

bad with the captain and officers of the ship by 
being mixed up in a fight. 

^^Oh, pshaw!^' I said, mildly. don’t want 
to fight you, Mister. Thank didn’t inten- 
tionally get in your way, and I didn’t mean ” 

“You struck me, you white livered ” 

“I didn’t,” I denied. “You ran against me.” 

“Don’t you give me no back talk,” snarled 
the fellow, but looking out watchfully for the 
officers now. 

“Don’t be mad,” I said, with a smile. “I’m 
sorry if I hurt you ” 

I guess that wasn’t a wise thing to say, al- 
though I did not mean to heap fuel on the flames 
of his wrath. He gave me a black look as he 
turned away, muttering: 

“Wait till I git you a-tween decks, my lad. 
I’ll do for you!” 

Thank and I looked at each other, and I guess 
my countenance expressed all the chagrin I 
felt, for my chum did not smile, as usual. 

“You butted in for me. Sharp,” he said, 
gloomily, “and now that big bruiser will beat 
you up, as sure as shooting.” 


Chapter II 

In Which I Relate My History and Stand Up to a 
Bully 

A fine introduction to my readers! That is 
the way I look at it. It does seem to me, look- 
ing back upon the last few years of my life, that 
my impetuosity has forever been getting me into 
unpleasant predicaments. Perhaps if I wasn^t 
such a husky fellow for my age, and had not 
learned to use my fists to defend myself, I 
should not have butted in,^’ as Thankful Polk 
said, and so laid myself open to a beating at 
the hands of Bob Promise, the bully of the Gull- 
wing’s fo’castle. 

A quarrel with my cousin, Paul Downes, on a 
certain September evening more than a year and 
a half before, had resulted in a serious change in 
my life and in a series of adventures which no 
sensible fellow could ever have desired. For all 
those months I had been separated from my 
home, and from my mother who was a widow 
and needed me, and at this particular time when 
I had come aboard the Gullwing, my principal 


16 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


wish and hope was to get back to my home, and 
that as quickly as possible. That the reader 
may better uuderstaud my situation I must 
briefly recount my history up to this hour. 

Something more than fifteen years previous 
my father, Dr. Webb, of Bolderhead, Mas- 
sachusetts, while fishing from a dory off-shore 
was lost overboard and his body was never re- 
covered. This tragedy occurred three weeks 
after the death of my maternal grandfather, Mr. 
Darringford, who had objected to my mother’s 
marriage to Dr. Webb, and who had left his 
large estate in trust for my mother and myself, 
but so tied up that we could never benefit by a 
penny of it unless we separated from Dr. Webb, 
or in case of my father’s death. Dr. Webb had 
never been a money-making man — ^not even a 
successful man as the world looks upon success — 
and he was in financial diflSculties at the time 
of his fatal fishing trip. 

Considering these circumstances, ill-natured 
gossip said that Dr. Webb had committed suicide. 
I was but two years old at the time and before 
I had grown to the years of understanding, this 
story had been smothered by time; I never 
should have heard the story I believe had it not 
been for my cousin, Paul Downes. 

Mr. Chester Downes had married my mother’s 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 17 

older sister, and that match had pleased Mr. 
Darringford little better than the marriage of 
his younger daughter. But Aunt Alice had died 
previous to grandfather’s own decease, so Mr. 
Downes and Paul had received but a very small 
part of the Darringford estate. I know now 
that Chester Downes had attached himself like 
a leech to my weak and easily influenced mother, 
and had it not been for Lawyer Hounsditch, 
who was co-trustee with her, my uncle would 
long since have completely controlled my own 
and my mother’s property. 

Chester Downes and his son, who was only a 
few months older than myself, had done their 
best to alienate my mother from me as I grew 
older; but the quarrel between Paul and myself, 
mentioned above, had brought matters to a 
crisis, and I believed that I had gotten the 
Downeses out of the house for good and all. 
Fearing that Paul would try to ^'get square” 
with me by harming my sloop, the Wavecrest, 
I slept aboard that craft to guard her. At the 
beginning of the September gale Paul sneaked 
out of the sloop in the night, nailed me into the 
cabin, and cut her moorings. I was blown out 
to sea and was rescued by the whaling bark, 
Scarboro, just beginning a three-years’ voyage 
to the South Seas. 


18 


From Sea to Sea ; or^ 


I was enabled to send home letters by a mail- 
boat, but was forced to remain with the Scar- 
boro until she reached Buenos Ayres. The 
story of an old boatsteerer, Tom Anderly by 
name, had revived in my mind the mystery of 
my poor father^s disappearance. Tom had been 
one of the crew of a coasting schooner which had 
rescued a man swimming in the sea on a foggy 
day off Bolderhead Neck, at the time — ^as near 
as I could figure — when my father was reported 
drowned. This man had called himself Carver 
and had left the coasting vessel at New York 
after having borrowed two dollars from Tom. 
Years afterward a letter had reached Tom from 
this Carver, enclosing the borrowed money, and 
postmarked Santiago, Chile. The details of 
the boatsteerer’s story made me believe that the 
man Carver was Dr. Webb, who had deserted 
my mother and myself for the obvious reason 
that, as long as he remained with us, we could 
not benefit from grandfather’s estate. 

While ashore at Buenos Ayres I was accosted 
by a queer old Yankee named Adoniram Tugg, 
master and owner of the schooner Sea Spell, 
but whose principal business was the netting of 
wild animals for animal dealers. He called me 
Professor Vose/’ not having seen my face, and 
explained that my voice and build were exactly 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 19 

like a partner of his whom he knew by that name. 
The character of this Professor Vose, as de- 
scribed by Captain Tugg, as well as other details, 
led me to believe that he was the same man 
whom the boatsteerer aboard the Scarboro had 
known as Jim Carver, and the possibility of the 
man being my father took hold of my imagina- 
tion so strongly that I shipped on the Sea 
Spell for Tugg’s headquarters, located some miles 
up a river emptying into the Straits of Ma- 
gellan. 

But when we reached the animal catcher’s 
headquarters we found the shacks and cages 
destroyed and it was Tugg’s belief that his 
partner — ^the mysterious man I had come so 
far to see — ^had been killed by the natives. 
Making my way to Punta Arenas, to take a 
steamship for home, feeUng that my impulsive- 
ness had delayed my return to my mother un- 
necessarily, I fell in again with the Scarboro. 

To my surprise I found aboard of her, under 
the name of Bodfish,” my cousin, Paul Downes. 
Fearing punishment for cutting my sloop adrift, 
when his crime became known, Paul had run 
away from home and had worked his way as 
far as Buenos Ayres on a Bayne Line Steamship. 
There Captain Rogers of the whaling bark had 
found him in a crimp’s place and had bailed him 


20 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


out and taken him aboard the Scarboro. Paul 
didn^t like his job, and demanded that I pay his 
fare home on the steamship, but I believed 
that a few months^ experience with the whalers 
would do my cousin no harm, and should have 
refused his demand even had I had money 
enough for both our fares. The details of these 
adventures are related in full in the first volume 
of this series, entitled, Swept Out to Sea 5 or, 
Clint Webb Among the Whalers.’’ 

Because I refused to aid Paul he threatened 
again to ^^get square,” and he certainly made 
good his threat. I was to remain but two 
nights at Punta Arenas and had already paid 
my passage as far as Buenos Ayres on the 
Dundee Castle; but Paul got in with some men 
from the sealing steamer, Gypsey Girl, and they 
shanghaied me aboard, together with a lad from 
Georgia, Thankful Polk by name, who had tried 
to help me. Our adventures with the sealers, 
and our finding of the whaleship Firebrand 
frozen in the ice and deserted by her crew after 
her cargo of oil was complete, is related in num- 
ber two of the series, entitled, ^^The Frozen 
Ship; or, Clint Webb Among the Sealers.” 

During those adventures I learned that 
Adoniram Tugg’s partner. Professor Vose, es- 
caped death at the hands of the Patagonians, 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 21 

had joined forces with the animal catcher again, 
and in the Sea Spell they likewise had sought and 
found the frozen ship and her valuable cargo. 
Professor Vose boarded the abandoned ship 
and remained by her when the Sea Spell lost 
most of her spars and top-hamper and Tugg was 
obliged to beat into port to be refitted. Mean- 
while, from the deck of the Gypsey Girl, I saw 
the vast field of ice and bergs in which the Fire- 
brand was frozen break up in a gale 5 was horri- 
fied by the overwhelming of the frozen ship, and 
had the evidence of my own eyes that, whether 
the mysterious man in whom I was so greatly 
interested was merely Vose, Jim Carver, or my 
own father, he had sunk with the Firebrand 
under the avalanche of ice. 

Later the captain of the Gypsey Girl, a Russ 
named Sergius, and Thankful Polk and I were 
lost from the sealing steamer and are picked up 
by the Scarboro which was on her way to Val- 
pariso to refit after the gales she had suffered 
on the South Pacific whaling grounds. Captain 
Rogers, knowing my exceeding anxiety to return 
home, got a chance for Thank and I to work 
our passage on the Gull wing, which was just 
setting sail from Valpariso as the Scarboro 
arrived at that port. 

And here we were on the deck of the hand- 


22 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


some schooner, homeward bound; but before I 
had been here half an hour, it seemed, my ill- 
luck had followed me. I was enmeshed in a 
quarrel with the bully of the fo’castle, and 
could look forward to suffering a most finished 
trouncing when the sails were all set, the deck 
cleared, and the captain’s watch was piped below. 

^^I’ve got a good mind to give one of the 
mates warning,” muttered Thank, in my ear, as 
the bully went grumbling away at some call to 
duty by the dapper little second mate, whom I 
already judged to be Mr. Barney. 

Don’t you dare!” I admonished. ^'That’s 
no way to start. We’d have all the men down 
on us, then. And we don’t know how many 
weeks we may have to sail with them aboard of 
this windjammer.” 

When they began to clear up the litter made 
by the work of getting under weigh. Thank and 
I saw where we could lend a hand, and we did 
so. We learned, by talking with the men, that 
the Gullwing was shorthanded, and that is why 
Captain Bowditch, shrewd old Down East 
skipper as he was, had so willingly given two 
rugged boys, with some knowledge of seaman- 
ship, their passage home. Two men had de- 
serted at Honolulu, and another had to be 
taken ashore to the hospital at Valpariso. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjamnier 23 

The ship, we learned, was well found, and the 
men gave the officers a good name. Most of 
the crew had been with her more than this one 
trip. She was owned by the Baltimore firm of 
Barney, Blakesley & Knight, and her run had 
been out from her home port, touching at 
Buenos Ayres, at Valpariso and thence on to 
Honolulu and from there to Manila. On her 
return voyage she made Honolulu again, Val- 
pariso, and now hoped to not drop her anchor 
until she reached the Virginia Capes. 

It was the captain’s watch that was short and 
we were turned over to Mr. Barney, the smart 
young second mate. He was a natty, five-foot- 
nothing man, whom, if he had voted once, that 
was as much as he’d ever done! But the men 
jumped when he spoke to them, and he had a 
blue eye that went right through you and Thank 
declared — made the links of your vertebrae 
loosen. 

Meanwhile the Gull wing began to travel. 
Unless one has stood upon the deck of a great 
sailing ship, and looked up into the sky full of 
sails that spread above her, it is hard to realize 
how fast such a craft can travel through the sea 
under a fair wind. Many a seaworthy steam- 
ship would have been glad to make the speed 
that the Gullwing did right then, with but a 


24 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


fairly cheerful breeze. She made a long tack 
to seaward and then a short leg back, and in 
that time the Valpariso roadstead was below 
the horizon and the outline of the Chilean coast 
was but a faint, gray haze from the deck. 

We went below, leaving the mate’s watch to 
finish the job. ^^Now for it,” I thought, for 
Bully Bob had kept his eye on me most of the 
time, and he crowded down the stairs behind me 
when I entered the well-lighted and clean fo’- 
castle of the four-stick schooner. I expected 
he might try to take me foul; for I knew what 
sort of fighters these deep-sea ruffians were. As 
a whole the crew of the schooner seemed much 
above the average; but I believed Bob Promise 
needed a good thrashing and I wished with all 
my heart that I were able to give it to him. 

But if I could keep him off — make him fight 
with his fists alone — believed I at least might 
put up so good a fight that the other men would 
interfere when they considered Bob had given 
me my lesson. I hated the thought of being 
knocked down and stamped on, or kicked about 
the fo’castle floor. I had seen two of the 
men fight aboard the Gypsey Girl and a more 
brutal exhibition I never hope to witness. 

So I kept my eye on Bob, as he watched me, 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 25 

and drew off my coat and tightened my belt the 
moment I got below. 

Getting ready for that beating are you?’’ he 
demanded, with an evil smile. 

hope you won’t insist,” I said. ^^But if 
I’ve got to take it, I suppose I must. All I 
have to say, is, that I hope you other men will 
see fair play.” 

You can lay to that, younker,” declared the 
big fellow who had held the wheel. He was an 
old man, but as powerful as a gorilla. ^^Give 
’em room, boys, and don’t interfere.” 

Scarcely had he spoken when the buUy made 
for me. His intention was, quite evidently, to 
catch me around the waist, pinion my arms, and 
throw me. But I determined to be caught by 
no such wrestler’s trick. The ship was sailing 
on an even keel and I was light of foot. Just 
before the bully reached me I stepped aside and 
drove my right fist with all my might into his 
neck as he passed me. 

Goodness! but he went down with a crash. 
Big as he was I had fairly lifted him from his 
feet. The men roared with delight, and slapped 
their thighs and each other’s backs. I could 
see that they were going to enjoy this set-to if I 
lasted any length of time against my antagonist. 

'^Hold on!” I cried, before Bob Promise had 


26 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


managed to pick himself up, and believing that 
my first blow had won me the sympathy of the 
majority. ^^This man has all the advantage of 
weight and age over me. If he^U stand up and 
fight clean with his fists, 111 do my best to meet 
him. But I won^t stand for rough work, or 
clinches. Hell best me in a minute, wrestling.’ 

^^The boy speaks true,” declared the hairy 
man. ^^And I tell you what, mates. It ain’t 
clear in my mind what the fight’s about, or 
who’s in the wrong. But the lad shall have his 
way. If you try to grab him, or use your feet. 
Bob, I’ll pull you off him with my own two hands 
and break you in two! Mark that, now.” 

Hurrah I” cried the irrepressible Thank. 
‘‘Go to it, Sharp! I believe you can win out.” 


Chapter III 

In Which the Bubble of My Conceit Is Pricked 

Now this is HO place to report the details of a 
fight of this character. It is all weU and good for 
a boy to learn to box; it is one of the cleanest 
sports there is. It teaches one to be quick of 
eye and foot, inculcates courage, gives even a 
naturally timid person confidence, and aids 
wind and muscle. But the game should be 
played only with soft gloves — ^never with bare 
fists. 

Maybe once or twice in the average boy’s life 
will he need the knowledge gained in the 
gymnasium to save himself from a beating. I 
think now I should have sidestepped this 
trouble with Bob Promise, and could have done 
so with no loss of honor or self-respect. 

But as I saw how lubberly the fellow was, and 
how clumsy he was on his feet, I was fired with 
the conceit that I had a chance to hold my own 
in the contest. And so I did. 

I passed my watch to Thank and claimed two- 
minute rounds; he acted as timekeeper while 


28 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


the goriUa man was referee. We fought alto- 
gether five rounds, and during that time my 
antagonist only managed to reach me half a 
dozen times, and only once did he knock me to 
the deck. 

I was pretty fresh at the end of this time, 
while Bob was blowing like a porpoise, I had 
closed one of his eyes, and his face was bleeding 
where my knuckles had cut him deeply. During 
the last round I noticed that the men had kept 
mighty quiet, and as the big fellow stepped in 
between us when Thank announced the end of 
the round, I saw Mr. Barney, the second mate, 
standing behind me. 

“I reckon that^s enough, boys,’’ said the little 
second mate, good-naturedly enough. They’re 
not matched by the rules you are following. 
This young fellow will soon have Bob groggy. 
The boy’s got all the science and Bob has no 
show.” 

This was putting it in a light that vexed me. 
I had thought I was the one to earn sympathy, 
not the bully. 

Why,” I complained, ^^he pitched on me for 
nothing. And he outweighs me thirty pound.” 

^'And you outweigh me twenty pound, you 
young bantam, you!” laughed the second mate. 
“ Come ! I’m a better match for you than Bob is.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 29 

I flushed pretty red at that, for although I 
saw Mr. Barney was a man to respect, I did not 
think he handled his watch by the weight of his 
muscle. 

^^If you don’t think so, put up your hands 
again, and we’ll try a bout,” said Mr. Barney, 
still laughing. ^^If you give me the kind of an 
eye Bob has, I won’t chalk it up against you. 
The boys will tell you that if there’s anything 
aboard the old Gull wing, it’s fair dealing.” 

“And that’s right for ye, Mr. Barney!” ex- 
claimed the gorilla man. Then he winked at 
me. “Hit him as hard as ye kin, boy!” he 
whispered. 

“Come on,” said the mate, buttoning his 
jacket tight and taking his position. “You 
won’t have to fight the whole crew to get a 
standing.” 

I saw he meant it, and I knew by his smile 
that he was a fair-minded man and wished me 
no harm. I secretly thought, too, that I was 
as good as he was. 

“Time!” called Thank, rather shakily. 

The very next second something happened to 
me that I hadn’t expected. I thought I could 
parry his first blow, at least; but it landed under 
my jaw and every tooth in my head rattled. I 


30 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

leaped back and he followed me up with a swift- 
ness that made me blink. 

I parried several more swift blows and then 
hit out myself when I thought I saw my chance. 
He just moved his head a trifle to one side and 
my fist shot by. My whole weight went with it 
and I collided against him. He only rocked a 
little on his feet, and as I dodged back he struck 
me a blow on the chest that drove me half a 
dozen yards into the arms of the spectators. 

If I had placed that higher up — as I might — 
you would have been asleep, my lad,’’ he said, 
coolly. Don’t you believe it?” 

''I do, sir,” I said, panting. 

am just as much better than you, as you 
are than Bob,” he said, laughing again. ^^He 
has no science and you have a little. But I 
have more science and so we’re not fairly 
matched. And now, boys, that’s fun enough for 
to-day,” and he turned on his heel and went up 
on deck. 

I teU you right now, I felt pretty foolish. 
But the men didn’t laugh. The big man, whom 
I learned later was Tom Thornton, said: 

''He’s a smart little bit of a man, is Mr. Jim 
Barney. You might be proud to be put out 
by him.” 

'"Excuse me!” I returned, feeling to see if all 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 31 

my teeth were sound. kicking mule has 

got anything on him when he hits you.’’ 

^^And his brother Alf, on the Seamew, is a 
match for him/’ said another of the men. 
'^There’s a pair of them — ^brothers and twins, 
and as much alike as two peas in a pod. I mind 
the time they was looking for some men down 
in a joint on Front Street, Baltimore, and a 
gang started in to clean ’em up. Thought they 
was dudes trying to be rounders. The Barney 
boys held off a dozen of them till the police came, 
and neither of them even showed a scratch.” 

I pulled myself together and went over to 
Bob, who was swabbing his face in a bucket of 
water. I held out my hand to him, and said: 

^^The second mate was right. If we’d fought 
rough and tumble you could have easily fixed 
me. But you’ve got lots of muscle and I bet 
that second mate doesn’t sail without a set of 
gloves in his cabin. If he’ll lend ’em to us I’ll 
teach you what little I know myself about 
boxing.” 

'^That’s fair enough!” shouted Tom Thornton. 
^^The boy’s all right.” 

^^I’m game,” growled Bob, giving me his 
hand. '^But I don’t like fresh kids.” 

''That’s all right,” said I. "Mebbe I’ll get 
salted a little before the voyage is over.” 


32 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


And so the affair ended in a laugh. But I 
guess I learned one lesson that I was not likely 
to forget in a hurry. 

And both Thankful Polk and I had a whole 
lot to learn about this big ship. Although my 
chum had been five years from home (leaving 
his native village in the hills of Georgia when he 
was twelve) he had learned little seamanship. 
Nowadays ships do not receive apprentices as 
they used to in the palmy days of the American 
merchant marine, which is a regrettable fact, 
for it was from the class of apprentices that most 
of our best shipmasters came. 

A seaman — a, real A. B. — ^must know every 
part of the ship he serves, its rigging and what- 
not, just as any other journeyman tradesman 
must know his business. It is not necessary 
that an able seaman should be a navigator; but 
every navigator should be an able seaman. Such 
a man likewise should be something of a sail- 
maker, rigger and shipbuilder. In these days 
when the work of a crew is so divided that men 
are stationed at certain work in all weathers 
few men before the mast are all-round seamen. 
And this is likewise regrettable. 

In the months I had spent upon the Scarboro 
I had learned much — ^and in that I had the ad- 
vantage of Thank. Captain Rogers and Mr. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 33 

Robbins were both thorough-going seamen, and 
when we were not chasing whales I had been 
drilled by the mate, and by young Ben Gibson, 
the second officer, in the ropes, the spars, the 
handling of gear, and taught to take my trick 
at the wheel with the best man aboard. 

And I was thankful for all this now, for al- 
though the Gullwing was a much larger ship, 
and differently rigged from the whaler, I could 
catch hold now pretty well when an order was 
given, I knew, too, that men like Captain 
Bowditch and Mr. Gates and Mr. Barney liked 
their hands to be smart, and I was not afraid to 
tackle anything alow or aloft. 

The men told me, too, that ^Hhe old man^’ 
(which is a term given the captain aboard ship 
not at all disrespectful in meaning) was a terror 
for crowding on sail. Besides, there was a 
deeper reason for Captain Bowditch wishing to 
put his ship through the seas and reaching Balti- 
more just as soon as possible. 

Ye see,’’ said old Tom Thornton, in the dog 
watch that afternoon, ^Hhe firm owns f^nother 
ship like the Gullwing— the very spittin’ image 
of it— the Seamew. They’re sister ships; built 
in the same dockyard, at the same time, and by 
the very same plans. A knee, or a deck plank, 


34 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


out o’ either one would fit exactly iuto the 
similar space in the other — and vicy varsy. 

^^They was put into commission the same 
month, and they make the same v’yges, as 
usual, Cap’n Si Somes, of the Sewmew is about 
the same age as our skipper. They was raised 
together dov\m east; they went to sea together 
in their first ship. And they got their tickets 
at the same time, since which they’ve always 
served in different ships, one mounting a notch 
when the other did. Rivals, ye’d call them, but 
good friends. 

^^But they’re always and forever trying to 
best each other in a v’yge. They races from the 
minute they cast off moorings at Baltimore to 
the minute they’re towed inter their berths 
again. They crowd on sail, and work their 
crews like kildee, and stow their cargoes, and 
unload the same like they was racin’ against 
time. And now, this trip, they’ve got a wager 
up,” and old Tom chuckled. 

^^It was this here way: We battened down 
hatches the same morning the Seamew did at 
Baltimore, and the tugs was a-swinging of us 
out. Cap’n Si sung out from his poop: ^Joe! 
I bet ye an apple I tie up here afore you do when 
the v’yge is over.’ 

* I take ye,’ says our skipper, ^ pervidin’ it’s a 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 35 

Rhode Islan’ Greenin’ — I ain’t sunk my teeth 
into no other kind for forty year — it’s the kind 
I got my first stomach-ache from eatin’ green, 
when I was a kid.’ 

^^And that settled it. The bet was on,” 
chuckled Tom. ^^And we fellers for’ard have 
suffered for it, now I tell ye! The Seamew beat 
us to Buenos Ayres by ten hours on the outward 
v’yge. We caught her up, weathered the Horn 
and was unloading at Valpariso when the Sea- 
mew arrived. But, by jinks! she beat us to 
Honolulu.” 

^^How was that?” I asked. 

^^Made a better passage. We got some top- 
hamper carried away in a squall. To tell you 
the truth, Cap’n Joe carried on too much sail 
for such a blow. But we weren’t long behind 
her at Manila, and my soul! how Cap’n Joe did 
make those Chinks work unloadin’ an’ then 
stowin’ cargo again when we started back. 

‘^The Seamew got away two days before we 
did. But we left Honolulu a few hours ahead 
of her, and she has to touch at Guayaquil — ^up 
in Equidor. As far as time and distance goes, 
however, both ships is about even. We had to 
unload a lot of stuff back there at Valpariso, 
and load again. Both are hopin’ not to touch 
nowheres till we git home. And it wouldn’t 


36 


Fiom Sea to Sea ; or, 


surprise me none if we sighted the Seamew al- 
most any day now, unless she’s clawed too far 
off shore.’^ 

This good natured competition between the 
two big ships had, I believe, something to do 
with the smart way in which the crew of this 
one on which I sailed went about their work. 
Jack Tar is supposed to be a chronic grumbler; 
and surely the monotony of life at sea may get 
on the nerves of the best man afloat; but I 
seldom heard any grumbling in the fo’castle of 
the Gullwing. 

However, there was another rivalry connected 
with this voyage of the sister ships — b . much 
more serious matter — ^and, indeed, one that 
proved tragic in the end, but of this I was yet 
to learn the particulars in the eventful days 
that followed. 


Chapter IV 

In Which Cavtain Bowditch Crowds On Sail and 
There Is Much Excitement 

In writing a story of the sea — even a nar- 
rative of personal experiences — ^it is difficult to 
give the reader a proper idea of the daily life 
of the man before the mast. It naturally falls 
that the high lights of adventure are accentuated 
while the shadows of monotony are very faint 
indeed. But the sailor^s life is no sinecure. 

Saving on occasion the work on shipboard 
is not very hard. The watch-and-watch system 
followed on all ships makes the work easy in 
fair weather; and foul weather lasts but for 
short spells, save in certain portions of the two 
hemispheres. 

Eight bells! Rise and shine!” 

This order, shouted into the fo’castle at four 
o’clock in the morning, roused Thankful Polk 
and I from om* berths. No turning over for 
another nap — or for even a wink of sleep — with 
that command ringing in one’s ears. We 
tumbled out, got into our outer clothing, ran 


38 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


our fingers through our hair (no chance for any 
fancy toilets at this hour) and went on deck 
with the other members of the captain’s watch. 

There was plenty of light by which to chore 
around, and Mr. Barney’s sharp voice kept us 
stirring until five when we lined up at the galley 
door and each man got a tin of hot coffee — and 
good coffee it was too, aboard the Gullwing. 
Then buckets and brooms was the order and 
the ship began to be slopped and scrubbed from 
the bowsprit to the rudder timbers. No house- 
wife was ever half as thorough as we had to be 
to satisfy Mr. Barney and the old man. Thank 
and I learned that Captain Bowditch made a 
tour of the deck every morning after breakfast, 
and if there had been any part of the work 
skimped he would call up the watch and have 
the whole job done over again. 

^^But that don’t happen more’n once on a 
v’yage,” chuckled Tom Thornton, working be- 
side us. ^^The feller that skips any part of the 
work he’s set to do on this here packet, gets to 
be mighty onpopular with his mates.” 

Thus warned, we two boys were very careful 
with our share of the scrubbing — and likewise 
the coiling down of ropes which followed. I 
can assure the reader that, when we were 
through, everything in sight was as spick and 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 39 

span as it could be — every stain was holystoned 
from the deck, the white paint glistened, and 
the brasswork shone. 

At seven-thirty the watch below was given 
breakfast and at four bells — eight o’clock — ^we 
were relieved and went below to our own 
breakfast; and that was not a bad meal aboard 
the GuUwing. There are no fancy dishes 
tacked onto Jack Tar’s bill of fare — nor does he 
expect it; but on this ship food was served with 
some regard to decency. 

On the Gypsey Girl souse” was served in a 
bucket, set down in the middle of the long fo’- 
castle table, and every man scooped his cup into 
the mess, broke in his hardtack, and inhaled it a 
good deal after the style of a pig at a trough. 
But for breakfast on this ship there was more 
good coffee, tack that was not mouldy and scraps 
of meat and potatoes fried together — a hearty, 
satisfying meal. 

Each man washed and put away his own cup, 
plate and knife and fork. Some used their 
guUeys, or sheath-knives; but Thank and I had 
brought aboard proper table tools in our dun- 
nage bags. After the breakfast was cleared 
away, and the fo’castle itself tidied up, the 
watch below busied itseM in mending, sock darn- 
ing, and such like odd jobs. A sailor has got 


40 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


to be his own tailor, seamstress and housewife; 
and even such a horny-handed and tar-fingered 
giant as Tom Thornton was mighty handy with 
his needle and ^^sailor^s palm/’ 

Some of the men shaved at this time, one cut 
another’s hair and trimmed his beard. The 
crew of the Gull wing respected themselves; the 
deck of the fo’castle was kept as well scrubbed 
as the deck above. Nobody came to the table 
without having scrubbed his face and hands 
clean; nor was the men’s clothing foul with 
tar or the grease of the running gear. They 
may all have been sword-swallowers” when it 
came to '^stowing their cargo ’tween hatches,” 
but cleanliness was the order, and the ordinary 
decencies of life were not ignored. These men 
may not have been particularly strong on 
etiquette, and were not ^'parlor broke,” as the 
saying is; but they were neat, accommodating, 
cheerful, and if they skylarked some, it was fun 
of a goodnatured kind and was not objection- 
able. 

I liked old Tom Thornton, for despite the 
cast in his eye, ajid his gorilla-like appearance, 
he was good hearted. He was just about 
covered with tattooing, I reckon. As he said, 
if he’d wanted to take any more indigo into his 
system he’d have to swallow it! Most of the 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 41 

work had been done on him by a South Sea 
Islander who had sailed in whaling ships and 
the like and made a little '^on the side^’ by 
tattooing pictures on foolish sailors. 

’Taint done now, no more,” old Tom said, 
shaking his head. ‘'But when I was a youngster 
it was the fashion. Poor Jack can’t afford to 
buy picters and have a family portrait gallery, 
or the like. But he used to be strong for art,” 
and the old man grinned. 

“I was wrecked with this here nigger-man I 
teU you about. About all he saved from the 
wreck was his colors and bone needles, and the 
patterns he outlined his figgers from. We was 
held prisoner on that blamed reef, living on 
stuff from the wreck, for three months. There 
wasn’t nothing else to do. His tattooing me 
kept him from going crazy, and the smart of the 
thing kept me alive. So there you have it — ■ 
tit for tat! He never charged me nothing for 
his work, neither, and I alius was a great lad for 
gittin’ a good deal for my money.” 

Tom’s legs were mural paintings of serpents 
and sea-monsters. He had anklets and brace- 
lets worked in red and blue. On his back was a 
picture of three gallows with a man hanging in 
chains from the middle one. I believe that it 
was the ignorant South Sea native’s idea of the 


42 


From Sea to Sea; or, 


story of Calvary, for there was the typical 
cross and crown worked above it at the back of 
Tom^s neck. The mermaid on Tom’s chest 
could have won a job as fat woman with a 
traveling circus; but then, Tom had an enor- 
mous chest which had given the tattooer plenty 
of space to work on. Around his waist was 
tattooed a belt like a lattice-work fence. When 
he stripped to “sluice down,” as he called his 
daily bath, he looked as gay as a billboard. 

At ten o’clock (six bells) of the forenoon watch 
most of the watch below turned in for a nap, and 
at half past eleven we answered the call to 
dinner. At noon we were on duty again until 
four o’clock. In pleasant weather this after- 
noon watch is a mighty easy one. Besides the 
man at the wheel and the two on lookout, the 
others haven’t much to do but tell stories, play 
checkers, or read. As long as everything was 
neat and shipshape the old man did not hound 
us to work at odd jobs as some masters do. 

From four to eight p. m. the time is divided 
into two dog watches, although the second half 
of that spell is the actual dog watch. “Dog” 
is a corruption of “dodge,” the object of this 
division being to make an even number of 
watches to the twenty-four hours so that there 
will be a daily changing or shifting, thus dodging 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 43 

the routine. For example, the watch that goes 
below one day at noon will the next day come on 
deck at that hour. 

At five-thirty our watch had supper and at six 
we took the deck once more until eight o’clock. 
Then we could sleep until midnight and from 
thence had the watch until four in the morning. 
It is a monotonous round — especially in fair 
weather. We were like to welcome a bit of a 
blow now and then, although the Gullwing was 
such a big ship, and her crew was so small, that 
all hands had to turn out to shorten or make 
sail. On some ships this fact would have made 
the crew ugly but these boys had even a good 
word for the cook or '^doctor,” and usually 
Jack looks upon that functionary as his natural 
enemy. 

But during those first few days of the run down 
the coast of Chile it was seldom that we were 
called on to shorten sail. Captain Bowditch 
was living up to his reputation; the Gull wing 
foamed along through the short green seas 
with every sail she would bear spread to the 
favoring gale. With her four whole sails on 
the lower spars and all her jibs set, she spread 
a vast amount of canvas to the wind. And the 
only changes we made were in her topsails. 
Those the skipper kept spread every moment 


44 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


that he dared; and it took a pretty strong gust 
to make him give the order to reef down. 

When he left the deck himself, either day or 
night, he instructed his mates to call him before 
they took in an inch of cloth. And Mr. Gates 
and Mr. Barney were just as hungry for speed, 
as the old man. The Gullwing was heavily 
laden, but there was probably few stiff er 
vessels at sea that day than she. With plenty 
of ballast there was no gale or no sea that could 
capsize her. 

She took cheerfully all the wind and all the 
sea could give her. A little loose water flopping 
around her deck didn’t trouble Captain Bow- 
ditch. '^Tarpaulin her hatches, clamp ’em 
down, and let her roll!” had been his order when 
we had got well away from our anchorage at 
Valpariso. We had good weather, however, as 
I have said, for some days. 

Then suddenly, one afternoon in the first dog 
watch, it came on to blow. Carefully as the 
captain watched the glass, I do not think this 
squall was foretold. A more cautious navi- 
gator might have been better prepared for a 
squall. He wouldn’t have had his topsails 
spread injany such gale as had been blowing. 
And when all hands were called to go aloft, the 
Iwind shriekedjiown upon us and the foretop- 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 45 

sail and two staysails were blown clean out of 
the boltropes before the men could get at them. 

'^What are ye about, ye sawneys!” yelled 
Captain Bowditch, dancing up and down on the 
deck and shaking his fists at the men above. 
^^Save my sails for me! Think I’m made o’ 
sailcloth? And them right new fixin ’s, too ! Git 
busy there!” 

Oh, we were busy! I had been sent aloft and 
so had Thank. We were nimble enough in the 
shrouds; but we were not as smart about 
handling the stiff canvas as some. I found my 
chum beside me as we hauled down the stiff 
canvas upon the spar, and threw ourselves upon 
the folds to hold them till they could be secured. 

^^My law-dee!” gasped the Georgian boy, 
grinning. ^‘Jest as lives try to pin an apron 
around the waist of a baby hipopotamus — 
what?” 

I saw his wet, red, grinning face for a moment 
looking across at me. Then, suddenly, the ship 
keeled over, the rope on which we stood over- 
hung those leaping, green, froth-streaked waves 
— waves which seemed hungrily trying to lap 
our feet. Thank disappeared ! Something gave 
way, his weight left the sail to me alone. And 
perhaps, fearful for my chum, I bore off the 
canvas myself to look for him. 


46 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


The oext instant I was cast back by the wind 
tearing under the canvas and lifting it in a great 
balloon. 

Swish — ^r-r-rip!^’ 

Like a banshee on a broomstick that sail 
kited off to leeward, and I was left hanging 
desperately to the shrouds, with the wind boom- 
ing in my ears so that I could not even hear the 
angry roaring of the skipper below. 

And all the time this question kept thumping 
in my head: ^'Where was Thankful Polk?^’ 


f 


Chapter V 

In Which We See a Ship Sailing in the Sky 

I had forgotten my own peril. Indeed, so 
disturbed was I for the moment for my chum’s 
safety that I cared nothing for the lost sail. I 
yelled for Thank at the top of my voice, though 
doubtless the shrieking of the wind drowned all 
sound of my cries. And Thank, for all I knew, 
was already far to leeward, fighting in that 
tempestuous sea. 

And then suddenly, through a rift in the fly- 
ing spray that stung my face so cruelly and al- 
most blinded me, I beheld something swinging 
from the ropes on which I stood. The ship was 
almost on her beam-ends and the waves broke 
just below me. There Thank hung by his foot, 
which had twisted in the ropes and was held 
firm, his head and shoulders buried in the foam- 
ing sea at every plunge of the laboring GuU- 
wdng! 

I shrieked again and, clinging with one hand 
with a desperate grip, I sought to seize him as 
he swung, pendulum-like, to and fro. / could 
not reach him. 


48 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


But now the brave ship was righting herseK. 
We rose higher and higher from the leaping 
waves. Thank swung back and forth and, as 
we came inboard, I feared he would batter his 
poor brains out against the wire cables, or 
against some spar. 

He was unconscious. He was helpless. And 
it seemed as though I was helpless as well. 
Those few momentous seconds showed me 
plainly how deeply I loved the youth who had 
been my comrade in adventure and labor and 
peril during these last few months. I had 
never had a chum before of my own age — ^not 
one whom I had really cottoned to. Thank 
was as dear to me as a brother would have been. 

As we rose higher and higher another fear 
smote me. K his foot loosened now and he 
fell, he would be dashed to death upon the deck 
below. In my struggles my hand found a 
loose rope. I hauled it in quickly, hung to the 
spar by my elbows while I formed a noose in the 
end, and was unsuccessfully trying to get this 
over Thank’s head and shoulders when another 
man sprang to the footrope beside me. 

^^Git down there and grab him!” yelled this 
individual in my ear. hold you both.” 

It was Bob Promise and although he was the 
man aboard whom I least liked, he was an angel 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 49 

of mercy to me just then. I knew his muscle 
and vigor. With one hand he clung to the rope 
and seized my belt with his other paw. I knew 
that belt would hold, and I swung myself, with- 
out question, head-downward. 

It was only for a moment that he had to be 
under the strain of all my weight and Thank’s 
as well. Then I had scrambled back to the 
footrope, and held my chum in the hollow of my 
arm. Thank was half drowned, but his eyes 
opened and he gasped out something or other 
before Bob steadied us both again upon the foot- 
rope. Later I realized that he tried to say, in 
his cheerful way: That’s all right. Sharp!” 

Between us Bob and I managed to get him 
down to the deck. We should not have been 
able to do that without a sling had the squall 
not passed away and left the old Gullwing once 
more on a comparatively level keel. 

When we landed upon the deck boards. Thank 
managed to stand erect. And we three shook 
hands with a sort of grim satisfaction. I don’t 
think any of us ever spoke of the event there- 
after, and our mates had not seen our peril j 
but we three were not likely to forget it. 

The old man was stiU careening around the 
quarter, like a hen on a hot skillet, fussing about 
the lost sails. And scarcely had the squall 


50 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


passed when he was ordering up new ones to 
replace those that had been lost. We went to 
work bending on the fresh sails while it was yet 
blowing so hard that most captains would have 
kept their crews out of the rigging. 

I began to see that Tom Thornton had not 
been joking when he said that the men were 
paying the penalty for the skipper’s betting an 
apple with Captain Si Somes, of the Seamew. 
Had it been a thousand dollars at stake, Captain 
Bowditch would have been no more earnest in 
his determination to beat the Gullwing’s sister 
ship. 

But the wind was little more than a stiff gale 
when the new sails were set and the ripping re- 
paired. We drove along until night and then 
the air became very light. During the night a 
fog began to gather and when our watch was 
called at eight bells in the morning it was pretty 
thick. 

Looks hke a Cape Horn soup,” growled old 
Tom, as he stepped on deck. '^Though we’re a 
good bit of a ways from that latitude yet.” 

As we stumbled around the deck, doing that 
everlasting cleaning up that Mr. Barney watched 
so sharply, the fog began to thin and waver. 
Somewhere overhead there was a breeze; but 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 51 

it was pretty near a dead calm down here on the 
deck of the Gullwing. 

By the time the sun began to glow upon the 
edge of the sea, looking like a great argand lamp 
in the fog| overhead the billows of mist were 
rolling in imitation of the long, swinging swell 
of the sea itself. At first those billows in the 
sky glowed in purple, and rose hues, ever chang- 
ing, magnificently beautiful! It was a sea- 
scape long to be remembered. 

The sun rose higher. Its rays shot through 
the rolling mist like arrows. Now and then 
the breeze breathed on our sails and the Gull- 
wing forged ahead at a better pace. The fog 
left us. We were sailing in an open space, it 
seemed, with the mist bank encircling us at a 
distance on a few cable-lengths, and the billows 
still rolling high above the points of our masts. 

And then, to the westward, the curtains rolled 
back as it seemed for the scene that had been 
set for us. Like the stage of a great theatre, 
this setting of cloud and mist and heaving sea 
appeared, and there, sailing with her keel in the 
clouds, and her tapering masts and shaking 
sails pointing seaward, was a beautiful, misty, 
four-stick schooner. 

^^What do you know about that?’’ demanded 
Thankf ul Polk. Do you see what I see. Sharp, 


52 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

or have I ‘got ^em?^ That ship^s upside down.” 

“It^s a mirage,” I murmured. 

“It's a Jim Hickey of a sight, whatever the 
right name of it is,” he rejoiued. 

Everybody else on deck was aware of the 
mirage, and a chorus of exclamations arose from 
the watch. 

“It's the GuUwing herself!” ejaculated Bob 
Promise. “ Of course it is I It's a four-sticker.” 

“How do you make that out?” demanded 
Thank. “I know derned well I ain't standing 
on my head, whatever you be.” 

“It's her reflection, sawney!” said somebody 
else. 

“Oh! well I reckoned that I knew whether I 
was on my head, or my heels,” chuckled the 
boy from Georgia. 

But I had been watching the mirage very 
sharply. I knew just what sails were set upon 
the Gullwing, and I counted those upon the 
ship in the sky. Misty as the reflection was I 
could distinguish them plainly. And suddenly 
I saw a movement among those sails. Sharply 
defined figures of men swarmed into her 
rigging. 

“That's not the GuUwing at aU!” I shouted. 

“That boy's right,” said Mr. Barney sharply, 
coming out of the afterhouse with his glass, and 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 53 

with the captain right behind him. You’ve 
got good eyes on you, Webb.” 

^^By jinks! It’s the Seamew!” roared our 
skipper, the moment he set his eyes upon the 
mirage. ^^And if she’s sailing that way, she’ll 
never beat us to the Capes of Virginia.” 

A roar of laughter greeted this joke. But the 
ship in the sky began immediately to fade away, 
and it had soon disappeared, while the wind 
freshened with us and we forged ahead still 
faster. When the fog completely disappeared 
there was not a sail in sight anywhere on that 
sea, although Mr. Barney went into the tops 
himself and searched the horizon with a glass. 

But I know that they made a note of the ap- 
pearance on the log. Some of the sailors 
thought the Seamew couldn’t be far from us, 
either head or astern 5 but I knew that the 
mirage might have reflected our sister ship 
hundreds of miles away. The incident gave us 
a deal to talk about, however, and an added 
savor to the race we were sailing half around 
the globe. 


Chapter VI 

In Which the Gullwing Suffers a Ghostly Visitation 

The words of Agur, the son of Jaketh. . . . 
There be three things which are too wonderful 
for me, yea, four which I know not: The way 
of an eagle in the air, the way of a serpent 
upon a rock, the way of a ship in the midst of the 
sea. . . 

That old fellow whose wise sayings make up 
the final chapter of the Book of Proverbs had a 
deal of experience and knowledge; but naviga- 
tion was a mystery to him. And to see a great 
ship sailing straight away on her course, in the 
midst of the sea, without a sign of land anywhere 
about, is like to make one think of the wonder 
of it. 

We picked up many a sail after the mirage of 
our sister ship, during the next few days; but 
none of them were the Seamew. The wind in- 
creased and the Gull wing went snoring through 
green seas, her bow in a smother of foam and a 
good deal of loose water inboard on occasion. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 55 

But that did not bother the captain. We were 
speeding up toward the Horn and little else 
mattered. 

We were getting into a colder latitude, too. 
Now we were down about to the line where the 
Gypsey Girl had steamed in and out of the 
channels after seals. But we never saw the 
land. The Gull wing was keeping well off shore. 

The keen wind blew a fitful gale. We were 
glad to get into the lee of the deck-houses when 
we were on duty. Thanks to Captain Rogers of 
the Scarboro, however, my chum and I were well 
dressed for colder weather; but we got each a 
suit of tarpaulins and hip boots from Captain 
Bowditch, for we had not owned them. We 
could safely dress in these water-shedding gar- 
ments every watch above, when the weather 
was not fair; for the schooner was bound to ship 
a deal of suds. 

In our watch besides old Tom Thornton, was 
another ancient mariner, and the only man not 
an American born aboard the GuUwing — August 
Stronson. He was a queer, gentle old man with 
the marks of dissipation strong upon his face, 
although most of his spare time below he sat and 
read a weU-thumbed Swedish Bible. He was a 
man in whom Alcohol had taken a strangle hold 
on Will. A more than ordinarily good seaman. 


56 


From Sea to Sea ; oYj 


when ashore he soon became a derelict along the 
docks, finally ending in some mission or bethel 
where he would be straightened out and a berth 
found for him again. He was only safe aboard 
ship. Eternally sailing about the Seven Seas 
was his salvation. 

He v/as aboard the Gullwing, as Thank and I 
were, merely by chance. And his reason for 
wishing to make the port of Baltimore was a 
curious one — yet one that gives a sidelight upon 
the sailor^s character. As a usual thing. Jack 
is grateful to anybody who does him a kindness, 
and he does not often forget a favor done him. 
Besides, he prides himself on being square.’’ 
Yet it seemed to me that old Stronson was carry- 
ing that trait farther than most seamen. 

He had been picked up at Honolulu by Cap- 
Bowditch, after the two men before mentioned 
had deserted the GuUwing to go with a native 
trader into the South Seas. Stronson had al- 
ready traveled by one craft and another from 
Australia and would have traveled, when he 
reached Baltimore, all of ten thousand miles to 
see just one man. He told me this story in one 
watch below and I think it worth repeating. 

‘^Captain Sowle, who iss de superintendent of 
that mission where dey iss so goot to sailor- 
mans, lend me a dollar five years ago when I 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 57 

was sick. I ban goin’ to pay dat dollar, me! I 
ban going to Baltimore to pay him.” 

^^But why didn’t you send it to him by mail?” 
I asked the old fellow. 

Captain Sowle, gif me dat dollar in his own 
hand, and I haf to give it back to him mit mine. 
I could nefer forget his kindness — ^no. In many 
foreign ports I thought of him — ^how goot he 
wass. I long carry that dollar note in my shirt 
— ^yes. In Sydney I went to the sailor’s mission 
one night and heard an old song das Captain 
Sowle sung to me and odders in Baltimore. I 
had that dollar note I haf saved mit me den. 
Why! I ban shipwrecked once and safe only dot 
dollar and a jumper. Luck foller me mit das 
dollar. 

^^I says to my mate dere in Sydney, ^Bill,’ 
I says, ^I got de old man’s dollar yet. Meppe 
he need it for de poys when he sing dot old 
hymn to-night over seas.’ 

'Do you feel uneasy like?’ Bill asks me. 

" 'No,’ says I, 'but I seems to hear the old 
man singing and I’m minding the old Bethel and 
the winter night he ban givin’ me de dollar.’ 
'Well,’ says Bill, 'you must bring your cargo to 
port and get a discharge. You must show de 
old man dat you sail straight. That’s my ver- 
dict.’ 


58 


From Sea to Sea; or, 


“So we shook hands undt I go find me a 
berth to Manila — best I can do just then. I 
makes Honolulu on a Pacific Mail; but she drops 
me there. Then I finds de Gullwing. She iss 
de ship for me/’ added Stronson, smiling in his 
simple way. “ She carry me straight for Balti- 
more, undt I pay das dollar to Captain Sowle.” 

Some of the men made a good deal of fun of 
Stronson because he was slow of intellect; but 
he was an able seaman and even the sharp- 
spoken Mr. Barney seemed to bear easy on the 
old man. He was stiff in his joints at times, for 
the sailor’s chief enemy, rheumatism, had got a 
grip on Stronson. Thank and I saved him 
many a job aloft, and in return he patiently set 
about teaching us all he knew about splicing and 
knotting — which was no small job for either 
the old man or for us. 

It was soon after this that we got the four 
days’ gale that I, for one, shall not soon forget. 
The wind, however, did not increase so suddenly 
as before, and Captain Bowditch took warning 
in time and had the small sails furled. But when 
the gale fairly struck us we had enough lower 
canvas set in all good conscience. The ship 
fairly reeled under the sudden stroke of the 
blast. 

With the wind, too, came the snow. Such a 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 59 

snowstorm I had not seen for several years, for 
we had had two or three mild winters in New 
England before I had gone to sea. We were 
forced to reef down the big sails, though every 
order from the skipper to this end was punct- 
uated by groans. The canvas was stiff and the 
snow froze on it, and we had a mess. Glad was 
I that the work was not to be done in the tops. 

A smother of snow wrapped the Gullwing 
about and we plunged on without an idea as 
to what was in our path. The lookout forward 
could not see to the end of the jib-boom. The 
sea was lashed to fury and, again and again, a 
wave broke over our bows and washed the deck 
from stem to stern. To add to the wonder of it, 
somewhere in the depths of the universe above 
us an electrical storm raged; we could hear the 
sullen thunder rolling from horizon to horizon. 
At first I had thought this was surf on the rocks 
and believed we were going head-on to death 
and destruction; but the officers knew where we 
were and they assured us that the chart gave us 
an open sea. 

The decks were a mess of slush and it was 
dangerous to go about without hanging to the 
lifelines that checkrowed the Gullwing from 
forward of the fo’castle to the after companion- 
way. Yet how the staunch craft sailed! She 


60 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


shook the waves off her back like a duck under 
a waterspout, and seemed to enjoy the buffeting 
of the sea like a thing alive. 

While the storm continued we got just such 
food as we could grab in our fists. Nothing 
was safe on the table. The doctor kept the 
coffee hot in some magic way; yet there were 
times when the ship rolled so that the lids flew 
off his stove and the fire was dumped on the 
deck of the galley. 

Sixty hours and more of this sort of weather 
dragged past. I once said to Tom Thornton: 

^Tt’s a pity the skipper didn’t try for the 
Straits, isn’t it?” 

‘^And what would the Gullwing be doing in 
the Straits, in a blow like this, my lad?” he 
demanded. A big ship like her in that narrow 
way has little chance in a storm. The tail of 
such a gale as this would heave her on the rocks. 
There’s not seaway enough there for anything 
bigger than a bugeye canoe.” 

^‘But the Scarboro made a fair course through 
it,” I said. 

^^That greaser!” snorted the old A. B. ^^She 
can loaf along as she pleases. Sea-anchor, if 
there’s a bit of a gale. But the Windjammer 
has to make time. These days the big sailin’ 
ships hafter compete with them dirty steam 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 61 

tramps. We can’t risk bein’ becalmed in any 
narrow waterway — no, sir!” 

It was on the fourth night, with the wind 
blowing a hurricane and the snow as thick about 
us as a winding-sheet, that our watch had come 
on deck at midnight. I was sent as second man 
with Bob Promise to the wheel. It took both 
of us to handle the steering gear when the old 
schooner kicked and plunged so. 

We were under close-reefed mainsail and jibs 
and were battling fearful waves. The sleet-like 
snow drove across her deck and all but blinded 
us. I had to keep wiping the slush off the 
binnacle, or the lamp would have been com- 
pletely smothered and we could not have seen 
the trembling needle. 

Sometimes the oflBcer on the quarter was 
hidden from our eyes, but his voice reached us 
all right: 

^'Steady your helm! You lubbers act like 
your muscles were mush. Keep off! Can’t you 
hear that sail shaking? You’ll have us under 
stem way yet. Call yourselves sailors? You’re 
a pair of farmers ! WTiat d’ye think you’re doing? 
Plowing with a pair of steers? Steady!” 

Bob muttered imprecations on Mr. Barney’s 
head 5 but I knew better. 


62 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


nervous, that’s all,” I said. ^^He’s 
always so when the skipper ain’t on deck.” 

All he thinks of is whether we’re heatin’ the 
Seamew, or not,” growled Bob. 

notice that bothers him,” said I. ^^But 
he hasn’t bet a Greening apple on the race, has 
he?” 

^^It’s bigger than that, I reckon. They say 
it’s something betwixt him and his brother Alf. 
They’ve been sore on each other for a year or 
more.” 

I knew Mr. Alfred Barney was second mate 
of the Seamew, and I wondered what the 
trouble was between the twin brothers. 

But just as this moment something happened 
that gave our minds a slant in another direction. 
The snow squall had thinned. We could see 
pretty near the length of the deck from where 
we stood — ^Bob and I — ^at the wheel. 

Suddenly my mate uttered a stifled yell and 
his hands dropped from the spokes. 

Looker there!” he gasped. 

I hung to the wheel, although a kick of the 
schooner near sent me on my head. 

Catch hold here, confound you!” I bawled. 

There!” he cried again, pointing with a 
terror stiffened arm into the forerigging. 

I saw a flash of light — ^a glow like that of a big 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 63 

incandescent lamp bulb. It hung for fully 
thirty seconds to the very tip of one of the fore- 
topmast spars. Again, another flashed upon 
another point of the rigging. Bob Promise 
crouched by the wheel; he fairly groveled, while 
I could hear cries and groans from many of the 
hands on deck. 

^^What’s the matter with you? What is it?” 
I demanded, still fighting with the wabbling 
wheel alone; and I am afraid I kicked him. 
'^Catch hold here!” 

‘^Corpse lights!” groaned Bob, not even re- 
senting my foot. We’re all dead men. We’re 
doomed.” 


Chapter VII 

In Which Is Pictured a Race in Mid-Ocean, 

There was a snapping and crackling in the air 
over the laboring ship. It sounded as though 
the taut stays were giving way, one after another. 
For the moment, what Bob said about corpse 
lights” I did not understand; I was mainly 
giving my attention to the wheel. 

But the ship came to an even keel for a minute 
and I was able to hold her on her course, and get 
my breath. Then I beheld the strange lights 
shining here, there, and everywhere about the 
rigging, and I was amazed. Not that I was 
frightened, as Bob and some of the others of the 
watch appeared to be. The sailor is a very 
superstitious person 5 and let him tell it, there 
are enough strange things happen at sea to con- 
vince a most philosophical mind that there is a 
spirit world very, very close to our own mundane 
sphere. There’s a very thin veil between the 
two, and at times that veil is torn away. 

But I knew in a minute that what Bob 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 65 

meant by ^'corpse lights’’ were corposant lights 
and were an electric display better known as 
“St. Ehno’s fire.” The lights were globular in 
shape, and about four inches in diameter. 
There were apparently a score of them all 
through the rigging, and they appeared at 
intervals of a minute, or two. The driving 
sleet could not hide them, and the fires il- 
luminated the ship and the sea for some dis- 
tance around her. 

It certainly was a queer sight, and the bril- 
liance of the corposant lights was very marked. 
I heard Mr. Barney shouting from his station : 

“Keep your shirts on, you hardshells! They 
won’t bite — nor none o’ you ain’t got to go aloft 
to put ’em out. There’s one sure thing about 
them lights — ^they won’t set the rigging afire.” 

“Get up and take hold of this wheel. Bob,” 
I exclaimed, “or I’ll yell for help. I can’t 
handle her proper if she plunges again.” 

He got up shakingly and took hold. When 
the sea was sucked away from the bow of the 
Gullwing next time we held her on her course. 
But my companion was still frightened and 
looked at the glowing lights askance. 

“Holding your own there at the wheel, boys?” 
demanded Mr. Barney. 


66 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

Aye, aye, sir!’^ I replied, but Bob didn’t even 
whisper. 

Suddenly the last light disappeared — as sud- 
denly as the first had appeared — and im- 
mediately there was a loud explosion over our 
heads and Mr. Barney pitched down the ladder 
to the deck. Several of the other men were 
flung to the deck, too, and Bob gave another 
frightened yell and started forward on a dead 
run. 

He collided with Captain Bowditch, who had 
just shot up through the companion way. 

^‘What’s this, you swab?” yelled the skipper, 
grabbing Bob by the collar with one hand and 
siezing a rope with the other, as the ship stag- 
gered again. What d’ye mean?” 

Then he saw Mr. Barney just scrambling to 
his feet. 

^^What’s this mutinous swab been doing, 
sir?” added the captain. 

The second mate explained in a moment. 
But Bob suffered. The old man was in a tower- 
ing rage because he had left his post. 

^'You flat-footed son of a sea-cook!” he 
bawled, shaking Promise, big as he was, like a 
drowned kitten. What’d d’ye mean by leaving 
the wheel? That boy yonder kept his place 
didn’t he? Scared of a light, be ye? Why, if a 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 67 

sea-sarpint came aboard that wouldn’t be no 
excuse for your leaving the helm. Git back 
there!” 

And when he started Bob aft again he ac- 
celerated his motions with a vigorous kick in 
the broad of the seaman’s back. Bob grabbed 
the spokes of the wheel, and braced himself, 
with a face like a thundercloud. I crowded 
down my amusement and perhaps it is well I 
did. The fellow was in no mood for enduring 
chaffing. When a man is both angry and scared 
a joke doesn’t appeal to him — much. 

I am reminded that this is a sorry scene to 
depict. Yet Captain Bowditch was a kindly 
man and not given to unjust punishments. 
And I believe that Bob got only what he de- 
served. Even terror cannot excuse a man for 
neglecting his duty, especially at sea. It is 
like a private in the ranks enduring the natural 
fear of a first charge against the enemy. No 
matter what he may feel in his trembling soul, 
for the sake of the example he sets the man 
next to him, he must crowd down that fear and 
press on! 

The storm had broken, however. At day- 
light we found that four feet of the fore-topmast 
had been snapped off short, whether by the 
electrical explosion, or by the wind, we could not 


68 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


tell. But that was the end of that bad spell of 
weather, thanks be! The Gull wing sailed 
through it, we spliced on a new spar, trimmed our 
sails, and tore on, under a goodly press of can- 
vas, for the Horn. 

But several of the crew remained gloomy be- 
cause of the corpse lights.’’ Something was 
bound to happen — of course, something unlucky. 
The lights had foretold it. And Stronson, with 
Tom Thornton and other of the old salts, told 
weird tales in the dog-watch. 

In spite of the hurricane we had made good 
time in this run from Valpariso. As far as I 
could see, however, nothing momentous hap- 
pened at once; and the next important incident 
that went down in the ship’s log was the sighting 
of the Seamew. 

We really saw her this time — ^^in the flesh,” 
not a ghostly mirage. She came out of the murk 
of fog to the southward at dawn and, far a way as 
she was, the lookout identified her. 

Seamew, ahoy!” he yelled. 

It brought all hands upon deck — even the 
mate himself who had just turned in, and the 
captain, too. There the sister of the Gullwing 
sailed, her canvas spread to the freshening morn- 
ing breeze, her prow throwing off two high foamy 
waves as she tacked toward us. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 69 

She was on one tack; we were on the other. 
Therefore we were approaching each other 
rapidly. And what a sight! If a marine artist 
could have painted the picture of that beautiful 
ship, with her glistening paint, and pearl-tinted 
sails, and her lithe masts and taut cordage, he 
would have had a picture worth looking at. 
And from her deck the Gullwing must have 
seemed quite as beautiful to those aboard the 
Seamew. 

The two ships were the best of their class — 
more trimly modeled than most. I had not 
realized before what a beautiful ship the Gull- 
wing was. I saw her reflected in the Seamew. 

She carried an open rail amidships; and her 
white painted stations, carved in the shape of 
hour-glasses, with the painted flat handrail 
atop, stood clearly and sharply defined above 
her black lower sides aod the pale green seas. 

Not that either ship showed much lower 
planking, saving when they rolled; they were 
heavily laden. With all her jibs and all her 
whole sails on the four lower spars, and most of 
the small sails spread above, our sister ship 
certainly was a beautiful picture. 

But the old man wasn’t satisfied. Through 
his glass he saw something that spurred him to 
emulation. 


70 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


^^She^s got all her t^gallant-sails set, by 
Pollox!^^ he bawled. ^‘Mr. Gates! what are you 
moonin’ about? Get them men up there in 
short order, or I’ll be after them myself.” And 
as we jumped into the rigging, I heard him growl- 
ing away on the quarter: ^'That’s the way Cap’n 
Si beats us. He crowds on sail, he does. Why, I 
bet he never furled a rag durin’ that four-day 
breeze we just struck, and like enough had the 
crew pin their shirts on the wash line inter the 
bargain.” 

Two vessels may be rigged alike and built 
alike, but that doesn’t mean that they will sail 
exactly alike. The Seamew was a shade faster 
in reaching and running than the Gullwing. 
Mr. Barney told me that. 

^^But to windward we have the best of her. 
And that’s not because of our sailing qualities. 
The difference is in the two masters,” the second 
mate said. ‘^Captain Joe can always get more 
out of his ship than Captain Si can out of his 
when the going is bad. In fair weather the 
Seamew will beat us a little every reach. But it 
isn’t all fair weather in a voyage of ten thousand 
miles, or so,” and he smiled — I thought — rather 
nastily. 

I was reminded of the hint Bob Promise had 
given me that there was bad blood and no 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 71 

pleasant rivalry between our second mate and 
the twin who held the same berth on our sister 
ship. Mr. Barney was in the tops studying the 
Seamew a good deal through the glass that day, 
too. 1 wondered if he was trying to see if his 
brother was on deck. 

For we did not run near enough to her that 
day for figures to be descried very clearly either 
on her deck or in her rigging. 


Chapter VIII 

In Which It Seems That a Prophecy Will Be 
Fulfilled 

We wallowed through the seas, but with 
comparatively fair winds, for two days. The 
Seamew would stand off on one tack, we on the 
other; and by and by we would lose her below 
the horizon 5 but, standing in, after some hours, 
we found her again and were glad to see that she 
had not pulled so very much ahead of us. But 
it made Captain Joe awful fidgety, and he 
certainly did keep the men hopping — ^reefing 
and letting go the topsails, and working every 
moment to gain a bit over his antagonist. Why, 
we might as well have been sailing a crack yacht 
for the America’s cup! 

All this activity was very well during bad 
weather; but the men began to get pretty sore 
when the hard work continued throughout the 
hours of fair days too. The Gull wing was, as I 
have said, short-handed. The sea laws cover 
such cases as this; but there are so many excuses 
masters may give for going to sea without suf- 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 73 

ficient hands to properly manage the ship that 
it is almost impossible to get a..conviction if 
the case is carried to court. 

Besides, it is the law that, if a case is not 
proved against the master of a vessel, the men 
bringing the suit must pay all the costs. Jack 
Tar knows of something else to do with his small 
pay without giving it to ^Tandsharks of lawyers.” 
That is why being a sailor and being a slave is 
an interchangeable term. Many legislators, 
having the weKare of seamen at heart, have 
tried to amend the laws so that the sailor will 
get at least an even break; but it seems im- 
possible to give him as fair a deal as the journey- 
man tradesman in any other line of work ob- 
tains. 

Old Captain Joe Bowditch, as decent a master 
as he really was, had a streak of ^^cheese-par- 
ing” in him that made him delight in saving on 
the running expenses of his ship. Besides, he 
probably knew his employers, Barney, Blakes- 
ley & Knight. Many a sea captain takes 
chances, and runs risks, and sails in a rotten 
ship with an insufficient crew, because he needs 
to save his job, and if he doesn^t please his em- 
ployers, some other needy master will! 

Although the Gullwing was so large a ship, 
there are larger sailing vessels afloat, notably 


74 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


some engaged in the Atlantic sea-board trade, 
and a fleet of Standard Oil ships that circum- 
navigate the world. These are both five and six 
masted vessels; but many of them are supplied 
with steam winches, steam capstans, and various 
other mechanical helps to the handling of the 
sails and anchors. The Gullwing had merely a 
donkey engine amidships, by which the anchors 
could be raised, one at a time, or to which the 
pumps might be attached. The great sails on 
her lower masts had to be raised by sheer bull 
strength. 

But in our watch old Tom Thornton was a 
famous chantey-man, and the way we hauled 
under the impetus of his rhythm, and the swing 
of the chants ('^shanties,’’ the sailor-man calls 
them) would have surprised a landsman. I 
learned that ^^a strong pull, a long pull, and a 
pull altogether’^ would accomplish wonders. 

We were now down in the regions where the 
tide follows the growing and waning of the 
moon exactly. Indeed, the great Antarctic 
Basin, south of the Cape of Good Hope and 
Cape Horn, is the only division of the seas where 
the tide follows the moon with absolute regu- 
larity. This is because the great sweep of water 
here is uninterrupted by land. 

The enormous wave, raised by the moon’s 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 75 

attraction, courses around the world with noth- 
ing to break it. Here in our northern hemi- 
sphere immense masses of land interfere with the 
coursing of this tidal wave; and the shallow seas 
interfere, too. In the Mexican GuK, for in- 
stance, the tide seldom rises more than two feet, 
while up along our north Atlantic shores it 
often rises six and eight feet, while everybody 
has heard of the awful tidal wave of the Bay of 
Fundy. 

The depth of the water, therefore, has much 
to do with tidal irregularities. Out in the open 
ocean, where the tide is abyssmal — ^that is, about 
five thousand fathoms — ^the speed of the waves 
is amazing. Where the depth decreases to five 
fathoms the tide cannot travel more than fifteen 
miles an hour. In England, for example, which 
is surrounded by narrow land-broken seas, the 
result is that they get some of the most terrible 
and dangerous tidal races and currents to be 
found anywhere on the globe. 

In the South Seas — ^particularly at Tahiti — 
the ebb and flow of the tide is perfectly ad- 
justed. It is always full tide at noonday and at 
midnight, while at sunrise and sunset it is low 
water. The rise and fall seldom exceeds two 
feet; but once in six months a mighty sea comes 
rolling in and, sweeping over the corral reefs. 


76 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


nature^s breakwater, it bursts violently on the 
shore. Indeed, sometimes this tidal wave in- 
undates entire islands. 

In various parts of the world the tide creates 
various natural phenomena. There is the 
whirlpool between the islands of Jura and Scarba, 
on the west coast of Scotland, known as the 
^'Cauldron of the Spotted Seas.’’ The Mael- 
strom upon the coast of Norway is another 
creation of the tide. The force of a heavy tidal 
current pushing up a wide-mouthed river, 
causes what is termed a ^^bore.” The most 
striking example of this tidal feature is seen at 
the mouth of the Amazon, where a moving wall 
of water, thirty feet high and from bank to bank, 
rushes inland from the ocean. 

The waves raced by the Gullwing’s bulwarks 
with dizzy speed. We plowed on, gaining all 
we could in every reach, but noting likewise that 
the Seamew, when she was in sight, seemed to 
draw away from us. When we had beheld her 
in the mirage she must have been a long way 
behind. 

I reckon Captain Bowditch prayed for foul 
weather. And he did not have to pray long in 
this latitude. We were in the district of the 
Boiling Seas. Fogs are frequent; gales sweep 
this section below the Horn almost continually 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 77 

— sometimes from one direction, sometimes from 
another. All the winds of heaven seem to meet 
here and gambol together. 

^^He’s runnin’ us into trouble, that’s what he 
ban doing,” croaked Stronson. ^^De old man, I 
mean. He iss not satisfied with the fair wedder; 
and who but a madt man vould crave for a gale 
down here under de Horn?” 

But we younger fellows laughed at the old 
Swede. We were almost as much excited in the 
race between the two windjammers as were 
Captain Bowditch and Mr. Barney. 

Remember!” croaked Stronson. ^^The cor- 
pus lights wass not for nottings. Trouble iss 
coming.” 

^^But not necessarily trouble to the ship,” 
declared Tom Thornton. ^^Them St. Elmo’s 
fires foreruns death.” 

^^Dey ban mean bad luck, anyway,” growled 
Stronson. 

Thank and I listened to all this croaking with 
a good deal of amusement. It surely never 
entered my head that the prophecy of the old 
men might be in anyway fulfilled. 

And I certainly did not feel any foredoom of 
peril myself. The expected gale came down. 
We passed within sight of the islet named Cape 
Horn, with a terrific wind blowing and the waves 


78 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


running half mast high. The Seamew had then 
been dropped behind. Indeed, the last we saw 
of her, she was wallowing in our very wake. 

‘'Gimme a breeze like this,’’ roared Captain 
Joe from his station, to Mr. Gates and Mr. 
Barney, “all the way to the time we take our 
tug, and we’ll be eating supper in Baltimore 
before that Seamew sights the Capes o’ Vir- 
ginia.” 

But this, of course, was only brag. The 
Seamew was not far behind us. 

And then, that very night the prophecy of ill- 
luck was fulfilled, at least insofar as it affected 
me. Something broke loose and began to slat 
in the tops. Mr. Gates, roaring through the 
captain’s speaking trumpet, shouted for all 
hands. We had barely got to sleep below, and I 
reckon I was half way up the shrouds before I 
got both eyes open. 

It was a black night, with the wind coming in 
strange, uneven puffs, and the deck all a-wash 
with loose water. The ship was rolling till the 
ends of her yardarms almost dipped in the leap- 
ing waves. 

My foot slipped; futilely I clutched at the 
brace with the tips of my fingers. I knew I was 
lost, and the shriek I uttered was answered by 
Thank’s voice as I whirled downward: 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 79 


^'Man overboard!” 

I shot down, and down, and down — and then 
struck the sea and kept on descending. I 
thought of Mahomet’s coffin, hung between the 
heavens and the earth. I was hung between the 
ship’s keel and the bottom of the vast deep, 
swinging in that coffin which can never rot — ^the 
coffin of the ocean. 


Chapter IX 

In Which I Pass Through Deep Waters, 

But I came to the surface after a time — and 
with all my wits about me. I had need of them. 

In these months that I had been knocking 
about the seas I had been in peril often. Nor 
was this the first time that death by drowning 
had threatened me. 

But on no former occasion had I been in so 
desperate a strait. I know that in this rising 
gale the Gullwing could neither be hove to, nor 
could a boat be launched for me. 

The schooner had gone on at the pace of a 
fast steamship. And the tide was sweeping me 
astern just as rapidly as the ship was sailing. 
When I rose breast high on the first breaker I 
saw the Gullwing^s twinkling lights so far ahead 
that they seemed like candle flames. 

I was alone — and this was one of the loneliest 
seas upon all this gi^eat, round globe! 

But when one is thrown into such a situation 
of peril as I was then, his thoughts are so con- 
fused that it is. ^nly afterward — ^if there is an 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 81 

afterward — ^that he analyzes his mental activ- 
ities. Just then I had only the clear desire to 
live. 

I turned on my back almost immediately and 
letting my legs hang well down, floated easily 
with my nostrils just out of water, and enjoyed 
two or three minutes of very, very grateful re- 
pose. I had been under the surface so long that 
it was some time before I could breathe clear to 
the bottom of my lungs again. 

The buzzing in my head gradually died away. 
I began to think collectedly. I did not waste 
time thinking of rescue. At least, I could expect 
no help from my comrades on the Gullwing. 

When I took my headlong plunge from the 
rigging I was clad in the heavy garb that most 
deep-water seamen wear. I had on two thick 
shirts, a heavy pea-jacket closely buttoned, and, 
worse than all, boots to my hips. Sooner or 
later all this weight of clothing would drag me 
down. 

I had paddled half a day at a time in Bolder- 
head Bay; and even the fresh water ponds about 
Darringford House, with their hidden springs 
and under-tows, had never frightened me. I 
was the first boy to go in swimming in the 
spring and it had to be a pretty cold day in the 


82 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

fall that drove me out of the water after the first 
plunge. 

Of course, this sea off the boisterous islet of 
Cape Horn, was no warm bath. The chill of 
it struck through to the marrow of my bones; 
yet I believed I was good for several hours yet, 
if I could get rid of those clothes. 

Undressing under water was a trick I had tried 
more than once; but it was those long-legged 
boots that scared me. They already made my 
lower limbs feel as heavy as lead. 

Paddling with one hand I tore open my jacket 
with the other, ripping the buttons off or through 
the buttonholes as they pleased, and finally got 
one shoulder and arm clear. As I was fumbling 
to get the other arm out of the sleeve I felt the 
handle of my knife. 

The coat stuck to my left shoulder; but a 
few slashes cleared me of the garment. It went 
floating away on the tide. 

I had bobbed up and down in this operation; 
but was none the worse for the plunges under the 
surface, being careful to breathe no water into 
my lungs. 

With the knife I slit both my shirts and tore 
them off. But the boots were the problem 
that shook me. I had to rest a bit before I 
tackled them. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 83 

I doubled up in a sitting posture and made a 
slash at one bootleg. Down I went — down, 
down, until it was a fight to get up again — es- 
pecially with my fist closed upon my knife 
handle. It was pretty hard work; every slash 
meant a plunge under. It was slow. 

I would draw up my left foot, for example, 
paddle vigorously with my left hand, take a long 
breath, make a slash with the knife in my right 
hand — and start for the bottom of the sea! 

But I got those boots off at last, though not 
without suffering several cuts and slashes upon 
my legs, which the salt seawater stung tre- 
mendously. I had already gotten rid of my 
belt, and my trousers came off easier. I was 
sorry to lose some things in my pockets; but 
was glad to think that my father’s chronometer 
was hanging above my berth in the Gullwing’s 
fo’castle and that what money I had was in the 
keeping of Captain Bowditch. 

And yet, it seemed utterly foolish to think of 
escape from this predicament. I had heard 
stories of wonderful rescues from drowning in 
mid ocean; but why should I expect a miracle? 
Here I was, struggling miles behind the Gull- 
wing, as naked as the day I was bom. 

Not many minutes had been spent in these 
maneuvers, for all the time occupied in their 


84 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


telliDg. For the GuUwing to have launched a 
boat to hunt for me would have been ridiculous. 
By day there might have been some chance of 
their finding me before I sank for good; but in 
the night — and a night as black as this — such 
an attempt would endanger a boat^s crew for 
nothing. 

If they had flung me life-buoys, they would 
have to come to me, for I could not see them. 
Gazing up into the sky I saw that scurrying 
clouds gave signs of a break in the weather. 
Here and there a little lightening of the gloom 
overhead showed the moon’s rays trying to 
break through the mists. 

Breast high again upon a rising wave, I took 
one swift, whirling look all about. Dense 
blackness everywhere on the face of the ocean ; 
but just as I sank back again the moon, breaking 
through a rift, lighted up a silvery path before 
me and at the end of that path — ^for an instant — 
I believed I saw the glistening sails of the Gull- 
wing! 

It may have been a mirage — ^a vision. The 
blackness shut down upon me, and upon the 
sea again; but I fell back into the trough ex- 
periencing a more sickening sense of desolation 
than I had yet felt. It seemed to me as though 


Clint Webb^s Cruise on the Windjammer 85 

I had looked upon the last sign of human life 
that I would ever see. 

I suppose a more hopeless situation than mine 
could scarcely be imagined. Yet I have philoso- 
phized upon it much more since than I did at 
the time. I would not let my mind picture the 
natural end of this adventure. My mind re- 
bounded from the horrible thought that I was 
lost. I would not contemplate it. 

In the middle of this broad, tempestuous sea — 
naked — alone. No hope of rescue by my com- 
panions on the Gullwing, with not a splinter to 
cling to, keeping from death only by constant 
effort. Yet there was something inside me that 
would not give up hope — ^that would not let my 
muscles relax — ^that clung with a desperation 
that clamped me to life! 

But at first it was little exertion for me to 
keep afloat. I was in first rate physical con- 
dition and I was not afraid of sinking right 
away. I knew how to handle myself. 

I lay on my back with my head deep, my 
mouth closed, only my nostrils above, conserved 
the strength of my legs by letting them hang 
deep, kept my arms outstretched, pretty well 
down in the water, palms down, and paddled 
gently, sometimes with both legs and arms, and 
again only with my hands. 


86 


From Sea to Sea; or. 


The waves rolled me over occasionally and 
used me roughly; but I did not lose my head 
and never sank to any depth, having always 
plenty of air in my lungs. When I felt that my 
arms might become wearied I folded them under 
my head and kicked easily. 

I am not sure that the sea subsided; but I 
believe it must have done so. It was a provi- 
dence for me, then. I know that not many of 
the waves broke over me, and I seemed sliding 
up and down vast swells which heaved up out of 
Nowhere, gray and green and foam-streaked, 
and then disappeared and left me floating in the 
deep trough. 

If anyone was ever literally rocked in the 
cradle of the deep, I was that person — ^from the 
crest of the wave, down, down, in a gradually 
diminishing rush, and then up and up to the 
crest of the next roller — ^and so on, over and 
over again. 

Once I let my mind slip and began to calculate 
the chances for and against my escape. The 
conviction that it was impossible rushed over 
me and I turned over quickly and struck out 
with a savage, hand-over-hand stroke through 
the waves, with the momentary insane feeling 
that I must get somewhere! 

The dogged idea of living as long as I could. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 87 

however, came to me again with fatigue, and I 
rolled over and rested, cradled in the waves. 

My hand touched my knife, which still hung 
by its lanyard from my neck. An awful thought 
touched my mind, at the same moment. They 
say it is an easy death, this drowning 5 but I 
can imagine nothing more awful than to drift 
for hours upon the surface of the sea with the 
knowledge in one’s mind that, after all, there is 
but one end possible. I opened my knife and 
held it tightly gripped^in my hand a moment. 
Then I pulled the lanyard over my head and 
let the knife and all drop into the depths — and 
the curse went from me. 


Chapter X 

In Which the Impossible Becomes the Possible 

Four hours had I floated on the tumbling 
sea, with the clouds above gradually breaking 
and with the moon finally paleing under the 
stronger light of the advancing sun. The black- 
ness disappeared. A wind-driven sky arched 
the sea. And I lay looking up into heaven, wait- 
ing for the end. 

For I was in a sort of mesmerized state toward 
the last, and kept myself afloat automatically. 
It must have been so; by no other means can I 
explain that I was still floating on the surface 
when the sun arose. 

The rocking motion of the swells soothed me 
to a strange content that I can neither explain 
nor talk about sanely. I remember I babbled 
something or other over and over again; I was 
talking to the moon riding so high there among 
the rifted clouds. 

efs $ $ $ $ #1 

In the night of July 14, 1886, the British ship 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer S9 

Conqueror, fourteen days out from Liverpool, 
bound for the lumber and fishing ports of the 
Miramichi, in the Straits of Northumberland, 
lost overboard Robert Johnson, A. B. The fact 
is registered on the ship’s log. Three days after 
the Conqueror reached Miramichi, the Bark 
Adelaide, from Belfast, likewise came into port 
and when she was warped into her berth beside 
the Conqueror, the first man to step from the 
Adelaide to the Conqueror’s deck was Bob 
Johnson. 

There are reasons for the sailor-men being 
superstitious. The crew of the Conqueror would 
not sail with Bob Johnson again. He was fey. 
But really, he had only experienced a strange 
and harsh adventure. The Adelaide, following 
the unmarked wake of the Conqueror, had 
picked him up after he had floated for some 
hours. 

And there are plenty of similar incidents in the 
annals of those who go down to the sea in ships 
to match this narrative of Bob Johnson. 

« $ $ $ $ 

The men who picked me up told me that I 
shouted to them; but I do not remember it. 
They were a crew of a boat put overboard by 
the Seamew, and they brought me aboard and 


90 


From Sea to Sea; or, 


I lay in a bunk in the fo^castle all that day with- 
out knowing where I was, or how I had been 
snatched from an ocean grave. 

About the first thing I remember clearly was 
that a young man stood beside my berth and 
looked down upon me with a rather quizzical 
smile. I knew him at once and thought that 1 
must be in my old bunk aboard the GuUwing. 

— . Have I been sick, Mr. Barney?’’ I 
asked, and was surprised to find my voice so 
weak. 

He seemed surprised for a moment, too, and 
then I saw his face flush. He exclaimed: 

“By the great hornspoon! this fellow is off 
the Gull wing.” 

“I was off the Gull wing,” I whispered. “But 
I guess this is no dream? I am aboard again 
now.” 

“No you’re not!” he declared, but he still 
seemed bewildered. 

“This isn’t the GuUwing?” 

“It’s the Seamew,” he said. 

“But — but — ^you’re Mr. Barney?” 

“I am,” he said, grimly. “But not the Mr. 
Barney you know, young man.” 

Then the mystery broke and I understood. 
It was Mr. Alf Barney I was talking to, the 
second mate of the Seamew. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 91 

‘^Then — ^then you picked me up,” I mur- 
mured. 

“And we had an idea that you were a mer- 
man,” he said, with a quick laugh. ^^Out here 
in the ocean without a stitch of clothing on you.” 

I told him how I had got rid of my garments 
after falling overboard from the other ship. The 
men below gathered around to listen. They 
were men of about the same class as manned the 
Gullwing, I saw. 

You’re the luckiest fellow that ever drew 
breath, I believe,” said the second mate, finally. 
^^You stay abed here till morning. Then you 
can go forward and talk to the captain. It’s 
almost unbelievable.” 

And I scarce believed it myself — ^at least, not 
while I was so lightheaded and weak. But being 
a husky fellow my strength quickly came back 
to me, and the care .of the kind fellows in the 
fo’castle set me on my pins the next day. I had 
a brief interview with Captain Si Somes — a long, 
cadaverous, hatchet-faced man who barked his 
words at one as though he did not like to waste 
either voice or words. 

‘^So Cap’n Joe didn’t try to pick ye up?” 
reckon he couldn’t. It was blowing pretty 
hard just then.” 

‘^tW’s like the old murderer,” he snapped. 


92 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


^'Didn’t clew down his topsls quick enough of 
course. He means to beat me if he kin/^ 

'^Yes, sir” I said. 

'^Well, he won^t. We’ll pick him up if the 
wind keeps this a-way.” 

‘^No chance of my getting back to her I 
sp’ose?” I suggested. 

^^To the Gullwing?” 

^^Yes, sir.” 

Wa-al! I ain’t goin’ to waste no time puttin’ 
you aboard. He’s short-handed anyway. He 
alius is. I’ll feed ye for the sake of keepin’ 
ye,” and he cackled rather unpleasantly. 

I didn’t like him as well as I did Captain 
Bowditch. And my interest was centered in 
the success of the Gullwing, too. I wanted to 
get back to her and see her win the race. 

I found the fo’castle hands of the Seamew just 
as much interested in the rivalry of the two 
ships as the Gullwing’s hands were. They be- 
lieved they were on the better craft, too. 

Why, she sails a foot and a half to the Gull- 
wing’s one in fair weather,” one man told me. 
^^Wait till we get out of this latitude. You’ll 
see something like sailing, then, when the Sea- 
mew gits to going.” 

I thought she was sailing pretty fast just then, 
and said so. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 93 

If she ever struck another craft — or anything 
drifting in the sea — she’d just about cut it 
down with that sharp bow/’ I observed. 

Ain’t much danger of running into anything 
down here. We ain’t seen another sail but the 
Gullwing — save one — ^for a week.” 

^^We hadn’t spoken a vessel on the Gull wing 
for a number of days,” I replied. 

'^No. Not many windjammers just now in 
these waters. And all the steamers go through 
the Straits,” my informant said. ^‘But this 
craft we spoke three days ago was a-wallowin^ 
along pretty well — and she had a tow, too.” 

A steamship, then?” 

^^No. She was a two-stick schooner, but 
she had a big auxiliary engine and was under 
both steam and sail. The Sea SpeU, she was.” 

^^The Sea Spell!” I cried, in surprise. 
know her. I’ve been aboard her. Cap’n Tugg, 
skipper and owner.” 

That’s the Yankee,” said my friend. ‘^And 
ain’t he a cleaner? What do you suppose he 
had in tow?” 

I was too amazed to answer, and the man 
went on: 

That’s one cute Yankee, that Adoniram 
Tugg. If there wasn’t but two dollars left in 


94 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

the world he’d have one in his pocket and a 
mortgage on the other.” 

I had to laugh at this description of the 
master of the Sea Spell. And it hit off Adoniram 
pretty well, too. 

^^That Yankee has made a killing this time,” 
continued my informant. ‘^He has been for 
weeks cruising south of here, so he yelled across 
to Cap’n Somes, hunting for an old whaler 
stranded in the ice.” 

'^The Firebrand. I know about her. Indeed, 
I’ve seen her,” I said, and told him the story of 
my cruise on the GypseyGirl and how we had 
come across the frozen ship and I had boarded 
her. 

^‘WeU! don’t that beat cock-fighting!” ejacu- 
lated the seaman, who was called Job Perkins. 
‘'That old ile boiler was worth a mint of money.” 

“ I know it. They said she had fifty thousand 
dollars in oil aboard.” 

“And if Adoniram Tugg makes port with her 
he’U turn a pretty penny. Salvage and all,” 
ruminated Job. 

“What do you mean?” I gasped, suddenly 
awakened to the fact that I was listening to a 
mighty queer story. 

“Why, that’s what Tugg was tugging,” and 
Job smote his knee and laughed at his own joke. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 95 

was tugging whaiV^ 

^^Why, I told you he had a ship in tow. She 
was a sight, she was! Her masts were just 
stumps; there wasn’t ten feet of her rail that 
hadn’t carried away, and she was battered and 
bruised and looked hke she’d sink under the 
surface every time a wave struck her. 

^^But that cute Yankee had broached oil 
barrels on her deck, and she was just wallowin’ 
along in a pond of ile — a reg’lar slick. The 
waves couldn’t break over her,” declared Job, 
still laughing. reckon he’d patched up her 
hull in some way, and it looked to me as though 
he’d tow her into San Pedro, at least.” 

^^But, man alive!” I cried. '‘What was she? 
What was the Sea Spell towing?” 

"WTiy, that Firebrand,” he said. "And he’ll 
make a mint of money out of her, as sure as 
you’re a foot high.” 


Chapter XI 

In Which I See That There Is Tragedy in This 
Ocean Race 

1 was dumfounded by this story of Job 
Perkins. Later it was corroborated by the other 
hands. It had really been Adoniram Tugg and 
the Sea Spell that had sailed near enough to this 
ship for conversation between the two skippers. 
And the Sea Spell actually had that old whale- 
ship in tow. 

TMs was the astonishing part of it: The fact 
that the Firebrand was not at the bottom of the 
seas. I thought I had seen her rained upon by 
ice — beaten down by the bursting berg— driven 
under the leaping waves. 

Yet, come to think of it, the rotating icefield 
had turned so as to hide the frozen ship from us 
aboard the Gypsey Girl when the ice split up, 
and a curtain of ice-mist and leaping waves had 
reaUy hidden the spot where the Firebrand lay. 

I had taken it for granted that the frozen 
ship — more than a year and a haK in the ice — 
had found her grave right then and there. But 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 97 

I remembered how sound the hulk of the whale- 
ship seemed when I went aboard of her. Only 
her spars and upper works were wrecked. She 
had collided with the ice and slid right out of the 
sea at the ^collision. Perhaps the blow had 
never made her leak a drop! 

And then it smote upon my mind that the man 
of mystery, Tugg’s partner, must be alive, too. 

That stern, sturdy man with his gray beard 
and hair, and his wonderfully sharp eyes, who 
had stuck by the frozen ship when his mates 
were driven off, and had battled against the gang 
of sealers to preserve the treasure of oil from 
their greed — ^this man in whose presence I had 
felt a thrill not yet to be explained even in my 
most serious times of thought. Why, Professor 
Vose must be alive! There was no doubt of 
that. 

I could remember very distinctly our brief 
interview upon the frozen ship. How quickly 
he had disarmed me and showed me that he was 
my master. I could imagine that he had not 
given up hope even when the ice split up and the 
Firebrand had slid back into the water amid the 
crashing bergs and boiling sea. 

Whoever this man was, he was a person of 
marked character. He had impressed me deeply 
and I felt that I could never really get him out of 


98 


From Sea to Sea ; or^ 


my mind. Be he Jim Carver, the renegade 
that had stolen money from the fish firm back 
in Bolderhead, or Professor Vose, the marvelous 
scientist that Tugg claimed him to be, the man 
who had risked his life for the fortune of oil 
aboard the Firebrand, was an individual whom 
I should never forget. 

I can’t say that I was as pleased, as the hours 
passed, with my situation aboard the Seamew as 
I had been on her sister ship. In the first place, 
I had no proper niche here. I was not one of the 
crew. I was really an outsider — and from the 
enemy’s camp at that. 

There seemed to be a different spirit in this 
crew. They spoke more bitterly of the Gull- 
wing’s company. They seemed to have no good 
word for Captain Bowditch and Mate Gates, 
and it was from Job Perkins that I finally got an 
insight into the real significance of the rivalry 
between the sister ships. 

^‘Ye wan ter jump quick, young feller, when 
Mr. Barney speaks,” Job advised me. 

know. That is the way it is with our 
Mr. Barney,” I replied. 

Shucks ! Jim Barney’s another sort of a man 
from Alf Barney.” 

''Not to the naked eye,” I responded, laugh- 
ing. " I couldn’t tell ’em apart.” 



Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 99 

That’s because you don’t know either of 
them very well.” 

^^Why — don’t know. I think I know our 
Mr. Barney pretty well. He’s a smart second 
officer and altogether a good fellow, too.” 

Smart! Why, he’s a fool to his brother 
Alfred,” declared Job. '^They ain’t in the same 
class — ^them boys. No, they ain’t.” 

^^Why, I thought they were considered very 
much alike,” I murmured. 

Alf will show Jim, I reckon, how much better 
he is,” and Job chuckled. Ye see, they useter 
be the best of friends, though brothers ” 

^^What do you mean by that?” I cried. 

Hadn’t brothers ought to be the best of 
friends?” 

Never had a brother, had ye?” 

^^No. For which I’m awfully sorry.” 

had brothers. You needn’t be sorry,” 
said Job, in his sneering way. '^And I reckon 
that is the way Alf Barney looks at it. Brothers 
can be in your way, I tell ye. I found it so. 
So does Alf Barney. Them boys is rivals.” 

^^Well, so are Captain Si and Captain Joe.” 

^^Huh! Them old tarriers!” snorted Job, very 
disrespectfully. ^^They only play at fighting 
each other. These Barney boys mean busi- 
ness.” 


100 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


^^But why?^^ I demanded. 

‘^Well, it^s something about their uncle. You 
know, their uncle, old Jotham Barney, is senior 
partner of the firm?^’ 

^^Yes.’^ 

^^And he^s put ^em into the business. Not 
that he^s showed favoritism. No. These Barney 
twins air good seamen/' 

^T'm glad you will allow that," I said, rather 
sharply. 

^^Yes. Jim is good; but Alf is a corker! a 
crackajack!" chuckled Job. ^^They begun to be 
rivals in a serious way previous to the v'yge 
before last/' 

“Ye see, there ain't but one rung at the top 
o' any ladder. And there can't but one man 
stand at the top of a pyramid. When old 
Jothan passes in his checks there will be just one 
chance for a nephew to take his place." 

“You mean that the two boys are jealous of 
who will get the old man's money?" 

“And stand in his place in the business," 
said Job. “Jothan isn't one for dividing power. 
He's always been the cock o' the walk in the 
firm. He'll expect the nephew that takes his 
place to be the boss. Can't divide responsi- 
bility. That is the way he looks at it." 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 101 

^^And a bad thing for the Barney boys/’ I 
muttered. 

^^Well, he puts it to his nephews two years 
ago/’ continued Job Perkins. ‘^He tells them 
they’re running too even. He can’t tell which 
is the best man. He don’t believe they are 
just alike, even if they be twins. 

'You git up and dust, boys,’ he said. 
'One of ye do something different from the 
other. Ye air jest of a pattern. I can’t tell 
which is the man and which is his reflection in 
the glass.’ 

"Ye understand, old Jothan didn’t know 
which to put down in his will to be boss of his 
money and the firm. The boys have got to 
show him. He gives ’em both the same chance, 
but he expects one to beat the other. 

"Old Jothan begun before the mast. He 
believes in the boys working out their salvation 
aboard ship. And even so near a thing as these 
two craft racin’, and one beating the other, 
will tell in the favor of the second mate who’s 
aboard the winning ship.” 

"I can’t believe it!” I said to Job. 

"You don’t hafter — only watch. Old Jothan 
is getting tired of holding on to the business. 
He wants to be shown who is the best man of the 
two boys. That best one he’ll take into the 


102 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


House after this voyage — ^aod you mark my 
word, sonny, that best man is going to be Mr. 
Alf Barney/' 

I didn't know whether Job had told me the 
truth, or not; but I was sorry to learn of the 
sordid rivalry between the two brothers. It 
was tragic — ^no less; and I wondered what 
would come of it in the end? 

But my wildest imaginings would have been 
tame indeed beside what really was to be the 
outcome of the misunderstanding between Jim 
and Alf Barney. 


Chapter XII 

In Which the CaptaMs Dog Goes Overhoard 

The heavy weather could not last forever; 
we came to a comparatively calmer season of 
several days. But the Gull wing was not sighted 
and I began to be worried. So many things 
might easily happen to her. The officers and 
crew of the Seamew were interested in finding 
the sister ship, too 5 but their comments upon 
her absence were neither kindly nor cheering. 

“Is she still ahead, or has she sunk?’^ de- 
manded Cap’n Si, after an examination of the 
entire circle of sea through his glass. 

“I bet weVe sailed clean around her/^ said 
the first mate, chuckling. “She’s in the dis- 
card.” 

“No,” said Cap’n Si. “It couldn’t be that.” 

“She’s reached land, then,” grinned the mate 
pointing downward. 

I thought that after all, both the crew and 
officers of the Seamew were little like my friends 
aboard the Gull wing. But we had such fitful 
winds for a time and made so little speed, that 
I reckon all hands were badly rasped. 


104 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


We sighted several craft in these seas — all 
windjammers; but none of them proved to be 
our sister ship. We were now in the South 
Atlantic, and had clawed well off from the 
threatening rocks of Terra del Fuego. We had 
passed from one great sea to another, and the 
prow of the Seamew was turned northward. 
She was headed for home in earnest. 

The men and officers were decent enough to 
me. I had been drafted into the maters watch 
and I was smart at my duties and had learned 
a deal aboard the Gullwing which came into 
good play aboard her sister ship. But I wasn’t 
happy. 

The captain had a big Newfoundland dog 
aboard — ^Major. He was the pet of the crew 
and was a good fellow. Every day that it was 
not too rough he went overboard for his bath — 
usually in a sling made of an old sail, although in 
these waters there was not so much danger of 
sharks as in the more tropical seas. 

However, there were other wicked marine 
creatures — ^far more bloodthirsty than Mr. 
Shark. And we had occasion to find this fact 
out for ourselves within a few days of my com- 
ing aboard the Seamew so strangely. 

We had a morning when the sea was almost 
calm. The wind scarcely gave the ship head- 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 105 

way, and the canvas slatted and hung dead, 
from time to time. We all whistled for a 
breeze.” 

Along about the middle of the morning watch 
a school of porpoises came into view. First we 
saw them in a string to windward, and stories 
of sea-serpents, told by both seamen and lands- 
men, came to my mind. In the distance, follow- 
ing one another with an undulating motion 
through the short seas, the porpoises looked like 
one enormously long creature — a huge serpent 
indeed. 

The porpoises struck a school of small fish 
nearby and then there was fun. The big fish 
sported aU around the ship, rolling and bouncing 
through the water in much excitement. 

The Captain’s dog likewise grew excited. He 
ran to the open rail and barked and yapped at 
the sea-pigs; and I believe that one of the men 
slyly '‘set him on” at the porpoises. 

However, to the surprise of the watch on 
deck (the captain was below). Major suddenly 
leaped the rail and went plump into the water. 

" Hi, there !” cried Job Perkins. " That dog’ll 
git inter trouble; and then what will Cap’n Si 
say?” 

I fancy the surprise of the porpoises when 
Major got among them was quite as great as the 


106 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


amazement of the men on the deck of the slow" 
moving Seamew. The schooner was just slip- 
ping through the sea, the short waves lapping 
against her hull very gently. Major could 
easily have kept up with us. 

The porpoises were sailing around and around 
the ship by this time, and the big dog bounced 
among them, barking and biting — or trying to 
bite — and otherwise acting like a mad dog. He 
plunged first for one porpoise, then for another, 
rising as lightly as a dog of cork on the waves, 
and throwing himself about in great abandon. 

He so excited the porpoises that they made a 
general charge upon him. The dog beat a re- 
treat in a hurry; but the sea-pigs had their 
‘Zander up’’ now and a score of them followed 
him, jumping, snorting, and tumbling about, 
evidently much delighted at putting the black 
stranger to flight. 

Major came towards the ship with a rush — his 
only refuge. The men cheered him excitedly; 
and the watch below was aroused and rushed 
up to see what was going on. So did Captain 
Somes appear, and the moment he saw the dog 
with the big fish after him, he sang out for the 
sling and scolded us unmercifully for letting 
Major overboard. 

I verily believe that the porpoises would have 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 107 

torn the noble fellow to shreds in a very few 
minutes. When Major came over the side, he 
was cut in several places and one of his ears hung 
from a thread or little more. I learned then 
that, although the porpoise is such a playful 
creature, and apparently harmless, it has means 
of defending itself not to be sneered at! 

I was leaning on the forward port rail, looking 
idly across the stretch of comparatively quiet 
sea (the porpoises having rushed away to lee’- 
ard), when I saw rising to the surface not many 
furlongs from the ship’s side, a great brownish 
mass that I took to be seaweed. 

After a storm we often met fields of rock weed, 
wrenched from the shallow banks underneath the 
ocean by the terrific waves. This rising mass 
was not much different — ^in first appearance — 
from many weed-fields I had seen. 

Mr. Alfred Barney was seldom on deck with- 
out his fowling-piece — a, beautiful, double-bar- 
reled shotgun — ^in weather like this. He was a 
splendid wing shot and seemed to delight in 
bringing a gull fiapping down into the sea, al- 
though he never shot at albatross. 

What you looking at, Webb?” he demanded 
of me, suddenly, coming around the corner of 
the forward house, gun in hand. 

^'Why, sir,” said I, just making up my mind 


108 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


that I had made a mistake ia my first diagnosis 
of the nature of the brown mass that had now 
risen to the surface, ^^why, sir, I believe it is 
something alive/' 

Something alive?" 

'^That thing off there," I replied, pointing to 
the object that had attracted my attention. 

He stepped to my side quickly and shaded his 
eyes under the palm of his hand as he gazed at 
the peculiar looking brown patch. 

A whale's back?" I suggested, as he remained 
silent. 

^‘No. It hasn't got slope enough," replied 
Mr. Alf Barney. '^By George, though! it's 
alive." 

That's what I thought," I said. be- 
lieved it moved — ^there!" 

A tremor of life seemed to seize the object 
and passed all through it. Whatever it was, its 
length was fifty or sixty feet. 

Maybe it's dying," I said. ^‘Some great 
beast — — 

^^Not a bat-fish," he muttered, half raising his 
rifle. 

‘'No, sir. I don't see either head or tail to 
it." 

It moved again — ^rather, it quivered. I can 
scarcely express the feeling of horror and dislike 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 109 

for the thing that came over me. I shuddered, 
wish it would go away/’ I muttered. 

Mr. Barney laughed, shortly. He raised his 
gun again. Suddenly we heard a sharp, man- 
datory voice behind us: 

“Don’t do that, Mr. Barney!” 

We both turned. It was the mate, Mr. Hol- 
lister. He was a dark, stern, silent man, who 
spoke to the men without much bustle, but who 
evidently expected to be obeyed the first time. 

“That’s a giant squid, Mr. Barney,” said the 
mate. “He’s 'bad medicine.’ You don’t want 
to fool with one of those fellows. I did so once 
to my sorrow.” 


Chapter XIII 

In Which I Learn a Deal About Sea Monsters in 
General and the Giant Squid in Particular 

A squid of that size?’’ cried the young second 
mate, doubtfully, while I gave my closer at- 
tention to the long, dark brown body that lay 
quivering upon the surface of the sea. 

There’s bigger,” said Mate Hollister, grimly. 
'^Ask any old Norwegian hardshell about the 
^kraken.’ I don’t mean the octopus; I mean 
the real devil-fish — ^the squid.” 

^^I know the octopus and the squid are two 
different creatures,” said Barney. 

Yes. And that yonder is a squid — a devil- 
fish of the largest size. There! you can see his 
fore-arms now — -look!” 

I had observed something moving thirty feet 
beyond one end of the bukly brown creature. 
Two snake-like tentacles suddenly whipped out 
of the water. They bore between their ends a 
struggling fish. In a moment tentacles and fish 
disappeared, apparently sucked in toward the 
head of the monster. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 1 1 1 

Good-bye, Johnny Fish!” said Mr. Hollister, 
grimly. “The parrot-beaks of that gentleman 
have snapped him up.” 

I had seen small squid. This beast lying on 
the sea so near us was between fifty and sixty . 
feet long, with an average diameter of something 
like five feet, and a ten-foot breadth of tail. 

The squid are the natural food of the sperm 
whale. Often the whale is so greedy for the 
squid that it tackles one of these giants and 
swallows the hard and indigestible beak which, 
causing a disease in the cetacean’s stomach, 
sometimes brings about the death of the gour- 
mand. As parts of squid beaks have been found 
imbedded in masses of ambergris, scientists are 
quite convinced that this gormandizing of the 
sperm whale on squid is the immediate cause of 
that secretion in its stomach which, strange as 
it may seem, is the basis of many of the best 
perfumes. Ambergris is a very valuable “by- 
product” of the sperm whale. 

The orca — ^that tiger of the sea — inordi- 
nately fond of the squid, too, as a diet. This 
devil-fish, with its eight short arms, each 
covered on the under side with innumberable 
“suckers,” and its two fishing-arms which have 
suckers only at the extremity, excites no fear 
in the killer-whale. 


112 


From Sea to Sea; or, 


Concealed at the base of the squid’s ten arms is 
the terrible beak, shaped like that of a hawk, 
except that the upper jaw shuts into the lower. 
This beak is hkewise dark brown in color, al- 
most black at the tips, and is supported by 
powerful muscles. 

Years ago there was a huge squid captured at 
Catalina, on the southern shore of Trinity Bay, 
Newfoundland. This squid was bought by the 
New York Aquarium and was the largest per- 
fect specimen of its kind ever examined by 
scientists. Of course, they had to satisfy them- 
selves with a post-mortem examination! 

The beak of this immense fish — whi<^ could 
not have been much larger than the one we were 
contemplating from the deck of the SeWew — 
was as big as a six-gallon keg. 

No animal can have a more formidable ap- 
pearance, or a more deadly grasp, than these 
squid. It would seem as though the long, flex- 
ible, muscular tentacles were a sufficient means 
of defense and offense, without their being armed 
with the terrible suction cups. 

These cups have a serrated edge like a hand- 
saw, and are used for anchors as well as to secure 
prey. They cling with the greatest tenacity, it 
being easier to tear away an arm from the body 
of the squid, than to force the beast to give up 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 1 13 

its hold. It has all the desperate nature of a 
bulldog. 

The beak, or jaw, is provided with terrible 
teeth, and even the tongue is covered on the 
upper part by a horny bed, bristling in the 
center with a series of recurving teeth, while its 
edge is armed with three other erect teeth, 
which are slender and hooked. A man might 
as well put his hand into a knitting machine and 
expect to take it out unscarred, as to risk a hand 
in the jaws of a squid. Those teeth tear the 
creature’s food to shreds. 

And one other characteristic the squid pos- 
esses which gives it advantage over both enemy 
and prey. When excited, and at will, it can 
eject a substance like ink — ^indeed, it was used 
by the ancients as ink — ^by which it clouds the 
sea, and so often escapes an enemy. Its own 
eyes being of a phosphorescent nature, it can see 
well enough through the haze of this cloud of 
ink, therefore its prey cannot escape. Besides, 
its fishing arms being three times the length of 
its other tentacles, the squid can ^^fish a long 
way from headquarters.” 

This ink of the squid, or cuttle-fish, when 
dried, is used in water-color painting, and is 
known by the name of sepia.” It is practically 
indestructible. 


114 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


Now, all this by the way of introducing the 
squid. The Seamew crept by the creature and 
I, for one, was not sorry to see it finally dis- 
appear. And from what the men told about the 
cuttle-fish I judged that it would have been the 
part of unwisdom for Mr. Barney to have fired 
at the creature. 

^^Lemme tell you,^’ said old Job Perkins, lean- 
ing on the rail beside me. “Them ain’t critters 
to fool with. I know. I been there and 
learned.” 

“Did you ever get real close to a big squid. 
Job?” I asked him. 

“Big enough and near enough to suit me,” 
he said, wagging his head and expectorating over 
the rail. “ I went up against a reef-squid once — 
in the Galapagos, it was — ^and that was enough 
for Job. Yes, sir! 

“I was in the clipper ship Chelsea that time, I 
was,” continued the old man, taking another 
“chaw.” “Cap’n Daggett ordered a boat 
ashore for turtles. He shot ’em for soup and 
fresh meat. Good eatin’, too. But I took a 
seal-club with me, for I wanted a sea-lion’s skin 
to make me a pair of moccasins, and I’d heard 
’em roaring when we dropped anchor. 

“I went off by myself and waded around a' 
low, rocky point, in water not ha’f knee deep. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 1 15 

but deep jest outside, when I saw Mr. Squid 
moving along a-top of the water. He made 
considerable thrashing as he come along, like a 
whirligig waterwheel; his body part looked 
bigger than I am, and his arms two or three 
times as long — ^at any rate, them two long arms 
was tremendous. 

^^It headed into a little bay ahead of me,” 
pursued Job, ^^and when it got into about three 
foot of water it dropped anchor and began to feel 
around with three or four of its arms. The 
upperside of them arms were brown colored like 
the rocks, with wrinkles and stiff bristles all 
along the edge; the underside was white — sort 
of a nasty, yallerish, dead-looking white — with 
suckers like saucers in two rows. What I took 
to be the head had something like eyes; but I 
couldn’t make ’em out plain. 

Ye know how it is when ye see a snake, when 
you’re walking on shore,” said old Job. 
always want to try and kill it. That’s the way I 
felt about that squid. I didn’t think of any 
danger when I waded to it, but it seemed to be 
watchin’ me, for it squared round, head on. I 
hit it a clip with my iron-bound seal club, when, 
quick as a thought, it took a turn around the 
club with one o’ them short suckers, and held 
on. I pulled my blessedest, but the critter was 


116 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

too much for me. Then^s wheu I’d oughter 
backed out. 

“But I was obstinate and I kept tugging at 
the club. Just then it showed its head — ^it shot 
out from the knob in front, a brown-and-purple 
spotted thing with the eyes showing. And in a 
second one of its arms was around me. It 
wound around my bare leg and another shot 
around my neck. The suckers took hold like a 
doctor’s cups. 

“ It began to heave and haul on me. You kin 
guess I pulled and hollered. I got out my knife 
and hacked at it, but it would have mastered me 
— ^it sure would! — ^if Cap’n Daggett hadn’t 
come running along the shore and fired both 
barrels of his gun into its head. Then it let go 
and slid back into deep water, squirting its 
nasty ink all about. 

“I ain’t never fooled with no squid again,” 
concluded Job Perkins. “They ain’t no pets.” 

It was later in that day, when I was standing 
my trick on lookout, and the Seamew had got a 
better wind and was forging ahead at a spank- 
ing pace, that Mr. Hollister and Mr. Barney 
stood near me and I heard the second mate ask 
the older man about the experience he had had 
with a giant squid. 

“Yes,” said Mr. Hollister, “when I was a 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 1 17 

young fellow I ran against one of those squids, 
and I never want to bother with another one. I 
was mate of a little schooner — ^the Pearl, she 
was — 150 tons and a crew of six men forward, 
with the cook. We were bound from the 
Mauritius to Rangoon in ballast, to return with 
paddy, and had put in at Galle for water. Three 
days out we fell becalmed in the bay — about 
latitude 8 degrees 50 minutes North, longitude 
84 degrees 5 minutes East. 

^^On the 10th of May about five o’clock in the 
afternoon — eight bells, I know, had gone some 
time before — we sighted a two masted screw 
steamer on our port quarter, about five or six 
miles off. Very soon after, as ve lay motionless 
on a sea like glass, a great mass rose slowly to 
the surface about half a mile on our larboard side, 
and remained spread out, as it were, and 
stationary. 

^^Even at that distance I could see that it was 
fully as long as the Pearl, and I sung out to the 
skipper to ask what he thought it was. 

“ ^ Blest if I know,’ says he. ‘ Barring its size, 
color and shape, it might be a whale. Some 
deep-sea critter, sure enough,’ and he dove below 
and came up with a heavy rifle. 

^^The crew was discussing it, too, and as the 
skipper was preparing to fire at the thing. Bill 


118 From Sea to Sea ; or. 

Darling, a Newfoundlander, exclaimed, putting 
up his hand: 

^Have a care. Skipper. That ere is a squid 
and it^ll capsize ye if ye hurt him.’ 

^^I’d heard of squid, and seen squid,” pro- 
ceeded Mr. Hollister, ^^and so had the skipper. 
But we both laughed at old Bill. The skipper 
up with his gun and let her go. He hit the thing, 
and it shook all over; there was a great ripple 
aU around him and he began to move.” 

^Out with all your axes and knives!’ shouted 
Bill, 'and cut at any part of him that comes 
aboard.’ 

"The old fellow taking the deck in that way 
made the skipper mad, and I was some sur- 
prised myself. You know how old sailors are — 
superstitious, as Negroes were in slavery. We 
couldn’t do anything to move the schooner, of 
course, and the skipper and I didn’t say a thing 
to the crew. Bill and the two others got axes 
and one other a rusty cutlas. We were all look- 
ing over the side at the advancing monster; but 
I for one, didn’t believe it was dangerous. 

"We could now see a huge, oblong mass, 
moving by jerks, just under the surface of the 
water, and an enormous train following. The 
oblong body was at least haK the size of the Pearl 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 1 19 

and just as thick. The wake, or trail, might 
have been a hundred feet long. 

^Tn the time IVe taken to tell you,” said Mr. 
Hollister, ‘Hhe brute struck us and the ship 
quivered under the thud; I wasn’t scared a mite 
until then. The skipper gave a yell and plugged 
away with his rifle another time. And then 
monstrous arms like trees seized the vessel and 
she keeled over; in another second the monster 
was aboard, squeezing its great polypus bulk in 
between the two masts. 

^^Bill screamed, ^ Slash for your lives!’ But 
all our slashing and yelling didn’t do a mite of 
good. Holding on by his arms, the monster 
slipped back into the sea again, and dragged 
the vessel down with him on her beam-ends. 

^^The skipper and I were thrown into the 
water. I caught sight of old Bill and one of the 
others squashed up betwixt the mast and one of 
them arms. It was an awful sight, I tell you. 

^^Of course, the Pearl’s hatches were open and 
in a few moments she filled and went down. 
Those two went with her. The rest of us es- 
caped the brute’s tentacles and a boat from the 
Strathowen — ^the steamer we’d seen — ^picked us 
up a little later. 

^^That was the finish of the Pearl and two 
brave men,” added Mr. Hollister, gravely. 


120 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


And she isn’t the only craft that’s been carried 
down by a giant squid. Most folks I’ve told it 
to think it’s a sailor’s yarn. But the crew and 
the passengers of the Strathowen could swear 
to it — and did so, too. The story was printed 
in the Indian papers when we reached Madras. 
And you’ve seen one of the beasts yourself, to- 
day, and know to what an enormous size they 
grow. There are dangerous monsters in the 
sea, Mr. Barney; but I reckon there’s nothing 
worse than a healthy, full-grown devil-fish.” 


Chapter XIV 

In Which a Signal Retards the Race 

It was at six bells in the morning watch of the 
next day that the lookout in the top sang out 
the wailing cry: 

^^On deck!” 

Crowds nest, ahoy!” responded Mr. Hollister, 
who had the deck. 

^^Sail-oh!” 

^^Where away?” 

'^Two points off the weather bow. Four- 
sticker! It’s that blessed Gull wing, by Jiminy 
Christmas!” responded the sharp-eyed seaman 
aloft. 

There was as much excitement aboard the 
Seamew now as though this was the first time 
her sister ship had been spied in the offing. We 
ran up the shrouds to see her better, and the 
oflScers were all on deck with their glasses. 

She came snorting up to us on the starboard 
tack, all her bright canvas bellying, and so trim 
and taut that it was a pleasure to gaze upon her. 
I felt a thrill of delight as I watched the Gull- 


122 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


wing. Aboard of her was my chum, Thankful 
Polk, and my other friends, and I wished with 
all my heart that I might rejoin them. 

But I knew very well that under the present 
circumstances that would be impossible. Plad 
the two schooners been becalmed the day be- 
fore, side by side, I might have got Cap^n Si to 
put me aboard the Gull wing. 

But one thing I did beg the captain of the 
Seamew to do, and, after some little demur, he 
agreed to it. He ordered Mr. Barney to bring 
out the signal flags, kept in the chest amidships, 
and instructed him to inform Captain Bowditch 
that the Seamew had picked up, alive, the lost 
member of his crew. 

This signaling was not done until the Gull wing 
was so near that both ships were about to tack. 
As soon as the line of flags was run up on the 
Seamew, they hustled about on the Gull wing 
and replied. Nor did Captain Bowditch shift 
his helm at once. The sister ships continued to 
approach each other. 

The Seamew had plainly overtaken the Gull- 
wing, and now, when she sheered off, she would 
begin to creep ahead of the craft in which I was 
the more interested. With the wind as it was, 
and nothing untoward occurring, the Seamew 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 123 

was bound to gain something over her rival in 
each leg she made. 

^^What’s he sayin’?” bawled Cap’n Si to Mr. 
Barney. 

I had already learned something about the 
signal code, and when the second mate’s back 
was turned I got a squint at the codebook. 
Captain Bowditch was asking if the Seamew 
would heave to and send me aboard! 

^^Cap’n Joe is sure cracked!” cackled the com- 
mander of the Seamew. ^^Tell him I wouldn’t 
do it for a hull barrel of greening apples.” 

I reckon Mr. Barney put the refusal more 
briefly. But the Gullwing continued to hang 
in the wind while another line of flags was run 
up to her fore. The book told me that the 
signal read: ^^I’U send boat aboard.” 

“No he won’t, by jinks!” crowed Cap’n Si. 
“Nor he wouldn’t wanter do it if he wam’t so 
blamed short-handed. Stow your flags, Mr. 
Barney. Stand by. Ready! haul sheet!” and 
he went ahead and gave swift orders to put the 
Seamew about on the other tack. 

But I was glad that those aboard the Gull wing 
knew that I was alive. I could imagine Thank’s 
relief, and how surprised and— I hoped— glad, 
the others would be to know that I had not 
found my grave in the ocean. I even thought 


J24 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


kindly of Bob Promise, the bully, and believed 
that he was likewise thinking kindly of me at 
that moment. 

And to serve Cap’n Si out for not being will- 
ing to meet Cap’n Joe hah way, and let them 
take me aboard,’’ I muttered to myseK, hope 
the Gull wing beats the Seamew all to flinders!” 

The Seamew, however, gained slowly upon her 
sister ship. On every tack that day she made a 
better showing. Sometimes the Gullwing was 
below the horizon ; but whenever we sighted her 
she was dropping back a bit. The wind re- 
mained steady and from a favorable quarter 
and by and by the night dropped down and 
divided the two ships more effectually than the 
sea itself. 

As the light faded upon sea and sky we sailed 
under a vast, black-velvet canopy embroidered 
upon which were the countless stars and planets. 
Constellations that I knew nothing about glowed 
from the depths of the firmament; and brighter 
than all was the Southern Cross. The moon 
had dipped below the horizon and therefore the 
Cross and the stars were the more brilliant. I 
paced the deck alone and thought of my mother, 
and wondered what she was doing just then, and 
it Chester Downes was still trying to circumvent 
me, and Mr. Hounsditch, and gain control of 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 125 

the fortune, possession of which he so much 
begrudged my mother and myself. 

And a thought came to me from out the still- 
ness and immensity of that night — a thought 
that forever after seemed to haunt me ; was there 
not some curse upon my grandfather’s huge 
property, which had been willed my mother and 
I under such wicked conditions? For that 
Grandfather Darringford’s will had been inspired 
by hatred of Dr. Webb, my father, one could not 
doubt. 

Had my father not been drowned as he was 
off White Rock, that will of grandfather’s would 
have been the source of heartburnings in the 
family. Human nature is human nature; the 
time would have come when the fact that Dr. 
Webb was a stumbling-block to his son’s ad- 
vancement, or his wife’s ease, would have been 
advanced. That is, if my father had remained 
all these years a poor man. And what else 
could he have been with his practice in Bolder- 
head? 

Men get stunted in small towns — especially 
professional men. Dr. Webb could never have 
made much more than a miserably poor living 
for mother and I had he lived; and all that 
time the thought of the great Darringford Estate 
would have been the skeleton in our closet! 


126 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


It was better as it was, I suppose. It had 
been a dream that my father was still ahve. I 
believe I would have gladly given up my share 
of my grandfather’s money to have found that 
the mysterous man aboard the frozen ship was 
my father! I had been strangely drawn toward 
that man. 

Besides, I felt now as though I were old enough 
and big enough to make my own way in the 
world, and to keep my mother in comfort, if not 
in luxury, as well. 

Dawn drew near and the stars began to fade. 
Soon the deck would be a-bustle with our watch 
washing down. We had probably crossed and 
recrossed the way of the Gullwing during the 
night, but she had not been hailed from the 
lookout. 

As the light of day advanced the wind fell. 
We hardly made steerage-way in the pearl- 
colored light of dawn. The coming day is 
heralded ashore by hundreds of feathered trump- 
eters; but here on the open sea it advances with 
silence. 

Far, far out on the sea, where the gently 
swelling water seemed buttoned to the rim of the 
sky, a sudden flush appeared. The hue lay 
upon both sky and sea — ^indeed, it was hard to 
distinguish for a bit the one element from the 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 127 

other. But I knew the sun was about to poke 
his head up just there! 

And as the glow grew, a ghostly figure drew 
across the pink patch. I watched it eagerly. 
The sun, mist-shrouded and sleepy, was thrust 
out of the sea; and across the red face of him 
sailed a four-stick ship — ^the Gull wing! It did 
not need the man in the crow’s nest to hail the 
officer of the deck and announce the fact. I 
could identify our sister ship from where I 
stood. 

Long red rays like pointing fingers played 
across the sea. The Gullwing and the Seamew 
were several miles apart. The early rays of the 
sun touched an object on the sea — at first merely 
a black spot — ^lying about equi-distant of the 
two ships. 

When I first saw this black thing I sprang 
into the shrouds. Mr. Hollister hailed me: 

What do you see, Webb?” 

‘^Something adrift — ^yonder, sir!” 

'^Lookout, ahoy!” bawled the mate. 

Aye, aye, sir! I sees it.” 

^^What d’ye make it out to be?” demanded 
the mate. 

^Tt’s the black hulk of an open boat,” I cried, 
as the seaman above hesitated. I expect the 
rising sun half blinded him. '^There’s a stump 


128 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

of a mast and she seems decked over forward — 
no! it’s an awning.” 

ship’s boat?” cried the mate, eagerly. 

^^Aye, aye, sir!” came down the voice of the 
man in the top. That’s what she be. And 
wrecked. Not a sign of life aboard her.” 

^'How is it, Webb?” Mr. Hollister repeated, 
see nothing moving,” I admitted, slowly. 

Mr. Hollister sent down for his glass, and then 
joined me in the shrouds. The deck was all 
a-bustle by now. Cap’n Si came up, rubbing 
his eyes and yawning. 

What’s the matter with all you lubbers?” 
was his pleasant demand. What’s that — ^the 
Gullwing? Ain’t you never seen her before?” 

^^Drop your eyes a bit. Captain,” advised 
Mr. Hollister, swinging down after a look 
through his glass. 

^^Huh!” exclaimed the skipper. ^'A boat.” 

^^Yes, sir.” 

Empty?” 

^^It looks so,” replied Mr. Hollister, and 
passed him the glass. 

Ain’t wuth picking up,” decided Cap’n Si, 
after a long look at the drifting boat. 

He closed the glass. Mr. Hollister waved me 
down and turned to order the watch to work, 
when the man in the tops hailed again. He was 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 129 

in a better position to see into the drifting boat 
than anybody else. 

see something moving in that boat, sir!” 

^^What do you see?” bawled Cap’n Si. 

'^It’s something fluttering — a, flag, or a rag. 
There it is!” 

There were light airs stirring. Suddenly 
something upon the broken mast moved. A 
flaw of wind fluttered something fastened there. 
Was it a signal of distress? Was some poor 
creature adrift in the half wrecked boat? 

I wondered what Cap’n Si would do. To 
ignore a flag of distress — ^to pass by the op- 
portunity of rescuing a fellow-creature from 
death — would be an awful thing. Yet there 
might be nobody in the boat. I could see the 
old man doubted. 

And then the lookout hailed again : 

'^The Gull wing’s dropping a boat, sir!” 

That’s enough!” roared Cap’n Si, all in a 
bluster at once. won’t let Cap’n Joe do 
more’n me. Mr. Barney!” The second mate 
had followed him on deck. ^^Call away a boat’s 
crew.” 

^^Aye, aye, sir!” was the second mate’s smart 
response. 

^‘Beat the Gull wing’s boat to that barge. 
Understand me? You git there first. I ain’t 


130 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


goia^ to let Joe Bowditch crow over me in Balti- 
more. Mebbe the boat^s wuth savin' after all." 

Before he had ceased speaking Mr. Barney 
had shouted down the fo'castle hatchway and 
his watch tumbled up. I had slid down the 
stays to the deck and was right beside the boat 
Mr. Barney had elected to launch. I wanted 
to go in that boat, but I belonged to the mate's 
watch and knew I would not be selected. 


Chapter XV 

In Which We Have a Good Race In Earnest 

And I had an idea that if I asked the captain 
to go in the boat, or suggested it to Mr. Barney, 
I’d get an immediate refusal. I had a decided 
belief that Captain Somes didn’t wish me to 
get aboard the Gullwing again. Not that he 
needed my services particularly — although my 
work was costing him nothing but my grub and 
the cast-off clothes I had been given; but 
Captain Si feared that Captain Joe needed me, 
and my remaining with the Seamew was crip- 
pling his rival. Which, by the way, was likely 
to be the facts in the case. 

So, with this scheme in my mind, I expect I 
was even more cautious than was necessary. I 
might have been unnoticed had I jumped right 
into the boat as it went overboard. 

But when I heard Mr. Barney call off the 
men’s names, I noted that Job Perkins was 
among the chosen. I had sized up Job for what 
he was. I grabbed him as he passed me on the 
run and shot into his ear: 


132 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


Listen! ten dollars when we reach Baltimore 
if you^U let me take your place in the boat.’’ 

^^Huh?” said Job, wonderstruck for a mo- 
ment. But it was only for a moment. The 
old fellow had all his wits about him and in 
working order. 

^^It’s a bargain, boy,” he whispered, and the 
next moment he fell sprawling over a coil of 
rope and scrambled up again right before Mr. 
Barney. 

Hullo! what’s the matter with you, old 
man?” demanded the second officer. 

^^Ow-ouch!” groaned Job, rubbing his arm. 

^^Hurt you?” snapped Mr. Barney. 

^'By gravey! I did wrench my arm,” groaned 
Job, his face writhing with an expression of 
pain. 

I stepped in at once. ^T’U take his place, 
sir,” I said. 

All right!” cried the officer, without a glance, 
and I slid down the falls and seized the bow oar. 

In another moment the officer followed me, 
getting into the stern, and we cast off. 

'^You git that boat for me, Mr. Barney!” 
bawled Cap’n Si, over our heads. ‘‘Don’t you 
let them fellers from the Gull wing beat ye.” 

“We’ll do our best,” responded Mr. Barney, 
waving his hand. Then to us he said: “Give 


Clint Webb s Cruise on the Windjammer 133 

way, men! See what you can do. Bend the 
ash!’^ 

Before we had left the deck of the Seamew we 
knew that the GuUwing^s boat was off ahead of 
us. It looked as though the drifting boat was 
about as far from one vessel as she was from the 
other. The air being so light, we would have 
lost time trying to beat down to the spot. The 
race was between the six-oared boats, and I do 
not believe any college regatta was ever pulled 
amid more intense excitement. 

At first, however, as we were so low in the 
water, we could not see our rival. Nor could we 
scarcely observe the object of our race. 

But over these gentle waves we could pull a 
mighty stroke, and I found that the men with 
me at the oars were practiced hands. The 
strokeman set a pace that made us bend our 
backs in good earnest. This was a race! 

Mr. Barney was using a steering oar, and usiug 
it well. He stood up to the work, and therefore 
he could see much farther than we at the oars. 
By glancing now and then over my left shoulder, 
however, I could see the black hulk of the drift- 
ing boat rising and falling upon the gentle 
waves. 

And at first I saw nothing about the boat to 
express life saving the fluttering rag. It was a 


134 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


flag. After some minutes of hard pulling it 
was revealed to us that it was a British flag, set 
union down. 

As I pulled I saw that Mr. Barney was looking 
across at some other object than the mysterious 
black craft. His eyes were squinted up as he 
gazed into the rising sun, and the expression of 
his face was mighty grim. 

^^He sees the GuUwing^s boat,’' I thought. 

^^PuU, you fellows!” he suddenly barked at 
us. ^^\^y don’t you pull?” 

And we were pulling, I could stand the pace 
for a bit longer, I thought; but the stroke was 
certainly bending his back and driving his oar 
with a vigor that left little more to be expected 
from mortal man. 

^‘Pull!” yelled our mate. ^^Pull, or those 
lubbers will beat you to it.” 

There was no feathering of oars, or any fancy 
work. This was just the hard, deep puU of the 
deep-sea oarsman. We breathed heavily; the 
sweat poured from our limbs; we neither spoke 
nor looked back over our shoulders now. We 
became veritable pieces of mechanism, set to do 
this certain stroke, and to do it until we broke 
down completely! 

^^Keep it up! Break your backs!” yelled the 
second mate. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 135 

I had an idea that there was an added in- 
centive for Mr. Barney’s excitement. His twin 
brother more than likely commanded the boat 
from the GuUwing. But we at the oars could 
not see her yet. 

Nearer and nearer we came to the drifting 
boat. Our craft sprang through the sea at the 
end of every stroke. Had one of the oars broken 
I believe we would have been capsized. 

Once more I glanced around. Not a sign of 
life in that floating mystery with its signal 
floating from the broken mast. But there was 
a bit of canvas spread forward of that mast, like 
an awning. 

Mr. Barney saw me look back and he swore 
at me good and plenty. 

You want us to lose this race, you sawney!” 
he exclaimed. 

I was convinced that, for his part, he was 
more anxious to beat the Gullwing’s crew — ^and 
incidentally his brother — ^than to save any life 
there might be remaining on the wreck. 

But perhaps I misjudged Mr. AKred Barney. 
We were all excited. Even I, who had no 
reason for wishing to see the Seamew’s boat 
win, pulled my oar with every last ounce of 
strength I possessed. Mr. Barney had accused 
me without warrant of trying to throw the race. 


136 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


The two racing boats were not head on to each 
other, but were approaching the wreck at an 
angle that now brought each in sight of the 
other. When the Gullwing^s boat flashed into 
the range of my eyes I saw half a dozen of the 
men I knew. There was Thankful Polk, heaven 
bless him, and Mr. Jim Barney at the steering 
oar. The sight of them made me feel good all 
over. 

But I could not see the wreck now without 
twisting my head around. And if I did that I 
knew I should bring the wrath of our second 
mate upon me. The Gullwings cheered. For a 
moment I did not know what for. Could they 
be winning? 

And then Thank’s jolly voice reached me 
across the stretch of sea: 

^^Hurray, Clint! Go it, old boy! You’re a 
sight for sore eyes!” 

But I had no breath with which to answer. 
And I reckon if he had been pulling his oar as 
I was, he would not have been so boisterous. 

The strain of the last few minutes of the race 
was terrific. My breath came in great sobs, and 
I heard the other men with me groan as they 
strained at the heavy oars. We were about all in . 

^^Pull, you tarriers!” barked Mr. Ah Barney 
again. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 137 

^^Keep it up, boys!” yelled Mr. Jim Barney 
in the other boat. 

I saw scowling looks exchanged between the 
twin brothers. It must be true, as Job Perkins 
had said, the two Barney boys were deadly 
enemies! 

Then suddenly our cox shouted: ^‘In oars! 
Way aU!” 

I felt the nose of the boat bump something 
behind me. I dropped my oar and turned to 
seize the broken gunwale of the drifting hulk we 
had pulled so hard to reach. We of the Seamew 
had won the race. 


Chapter XVI 

In Which I Return to the Gullwing — and With 
My Arms Full 

I hadD^t breath enough left at first to answer 
Thankful Polk’s hail. And when my eyes fell 
upon the contents of the drifting boat that we 
had pulled so far to reach, what I saw was not 
calculated to aid me to easy breathing. Lying 
upon his back, face upwards, in the glare of the 
morning sun, lay a man, bareheaded and bare- 
footed, dead. 

And such an awful death as he must have 
died! His face was quite black, although he 
was a white man by nature, it was as though 
the blood had been congested in his face. His 
tongue had protruded slightly from between his 
firm, white teeth. His legs were drawn up as 
though in a convulsion and the corpse had stif- 
fened that way. His limbs had not been com- 
posed by any kindly hand after the spirit had 
left its body. 

He was a sailor. There was tattooing on his 
chest and arms. He had a short, bushy beard. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 139 

I believed at first glance that he was a British 
seaman. And almost at this first moment of 
glancing into the boat I made another discovery. 
I learned how the man had died. 

His tongue was not black; and although he 
was much emaciated, neither thirst nor hunger 
had hounded the sailor to his dreadful end. 

He wore a gully slung by a lanyard around his 
neck. That knife was twisted tightly in the 
cord, and the cord itseK was imbedded in the 
flesh of the dead man’s throat. Actually a 
tournequet had been made of the knife aod cord, 
and the sailor had been strangled. He was a 
horrid sight, as he lay with his feet to the empty 
stern and his touseled head thrown back over a 
seat. 

Perhaps many of the details of this awful 
scene were a matter of later observation; but 
it seems to me now as though everything about 
the dead man was photographed upon my braio 
at the first glance. 

And then my gaze roved beyond him. There 
was a piece of sail-cloth laid across the bow of 
the open boat beyond the stump of the mast. It 
was dark under that awning. But right at the 
entrance lay something white and gold. 

Without waiting for any order from Mr. 
Barney, I stood up and leaped into the half 


140 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


wrecked boat. I heard none of the other men 
speak a word. All my attention was given to the 
object which my dazzled eyes now rested upon. 

A young girl — ^the prettiest, most appealing 
child I had ever seen — ^lay under the awning. 
Her head was toward me. Her face was as 
white as milk, and the blue veins showed plainly 
at her temples and were traced along her throat. 
Her cheeks were without an iota of color. 

She was all white — ^her face, her thin, ruflBed 
dress — ^the bare arm from which the sleeve had 
been pushed back to her elbow. All white, 
save the great mass of her hair. That was gold 
— ^pure gold. Such a beautiful child I had never 
imagined^ before. She was twelve or thirteen 
years old. 

“What’s that you got there, Webb?” I heard 
Mr. Alf Barney shout. 

I had dropped on my knees beside the uncon- 
scious girl. I saw that she was only delicate and 
exhausted. There was a breaker of water lashed 
to the gunwale right beside her, and a cup with 
water in it. I saw no food; but I knew well 
enough that the girl was not dying of thirst. 
No more than the sailor had died of thirst! 

I gathered the girl up in my arms. She was a 
light weight. I thought she sighed and her 
eyelids fluttered. 


Clint Webb's Cruise on the Windjammer I4I 

And then suddenly sounded a raucous bellow, 
in a strange tongue, from within the decked-over 
portion of the boat. Something moved. I 
leaped back and almost trod upon the dead man. 

Out from under the awning crept a tall, lean, 
lithe brown man, dressed in tom sailor togs, but 
with a dirty turban around his head. He was a 
wild-eyed, yelling fiend. In a moment there 
flashed out of his dress, from some secret place, 
a long, glittering blade. With this raised above 
his head he bounded in his bare feet the length 
of the boat after me. 

At that moment the boat from the Gullwing 
scraped alongside the wreck. As I whirled to 
escape this murderer, this boat was nearest to 
me. Thankful Polk, his red face transfixed 
with horror, shouted to me: 

^^Here, Sharp! Quick! This way!" 

Their boat was really nearest me. I leaped 
into it. Thank shoved off with his oar and the 
boat and the wreck were separated by a growing 
streak of sea. 

The men in both boats all talked at once; and 
the two Mr. Barneys shouted; but above all 
the uproar I could hear the frenzied shrieks of 
the brown man in the turban. 

^^Come back, here, Webb!" cried the second 


1 42 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

oflacer ia the Seamew’s boat. ^^We^ll take that 
child with us.’^ 

'^Sit dowa, Clint!’’ commanded Mr. Jim 
Barney, quietly. ^^You’ll have us swamped.” 

I obeyed him quickly. Thank smote me a 
hearty blow between the shoulders. 

Sharp! you’re a daisy! I knowed they 
couldn’t never drown you,” he declared. 

But I couldn’t reply to him. I still held the 
girl in my arms. There seemed to be no good 
place there in the stern to lay her down. And 
she was so frail, and soft, and pretty! I had 
never seen such a delicate creature before. 

We were still moving from the wreck and the 
Seamew’s boat, the men backing water. There 
was a splash and a louder yell from the Seamew’s 
men. I glanced over my shoulder. I could see 
the turbaned head of the wild man and his thin, 
bare arms beating the water. He was swimming 
desperately after our boat. 

^^That monkey’ll be drowned,” Thank cried. 

^^We kin get away from him easy,” said an- 
other of the rowers. 

'^He’ll be drowned,” I said to Mr. Barney. 
^'We’ll have to take him in.” 

'T reckon that’s so, Webb,” said the second 
mate. ^^The Seamew is welcome to the old 
tub — and the dead man.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 143 

The brown man came to the side of our boat, 
panting and moaning. He was near spent. 

I believe he belongs to this girl and he thinks 
we’re running off with her,” said Mr. Barney. 

^^He’s crazy as he can be,” said Thank. 

^^Help him in. See that he doesn’t have that 
knife. If he doesn’t behave, we can lash his 
wrists together,” said Mr. Barney. 

The foreign looking man was hauled in. He 
lay panting on the bottom, between Mr. Barney 
and I. We were being hailed from the other 
boat. 

“Let that Webb come back with us, you fel- 
lows!” cried Mr. Alf Barney. “Cap’n Si will be 
furious.” 

“He belongs to the Gull wing,” said our Mr. 
Barney, promptly. “ You can’t have him.” 

“We’ll see about that—” 

“See about it, then,” said the oflScer, shortly. 
Then to his own crew he said: “Give way, 
men! Altogether, now.” 

We swept away on a graceful curve and 
headed for the Gullwing. Mr. Barney nodded 
to me with a smile. 

“You certainly had a close call for your life, 
Clint,” he said. “Luck was with you when 
you went overboard from the Gullwing, after 
all. Everybody gave you up for lost — save 


144 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


Thank there. He swore that if you went to the 
bottom you could walk ashore, somehow.’’ 

At that moment the brown man drew a longer 
breath and struggled to his knees. Mr. Barney 
reached forward to seize him; but I saw that 
the foreigner’s eyes glowed no longer with the 
wild light that had made him look so savage. 

Sahib,” he said softly, '^is Her Innocence 
safe? Is the Missee unharmed? Is it well with 
her?” 

I looked down at the child’s face. She was 
breathing quietly, but her eyes were still closed. 

^^She is asleep. She does not seem to be 
harmed,” I said. 

Sahib! I was overcome. I had watched so 
long. Two long weeks have we been in that 
boat. Water we had^ but little food. That 
food I had brought myself for Missee. One 
man become touched of the finger of the gods and 
leaped overboard. The other desired the frag- 
ments of food which only remained for Her 
Innocence. I felt myself fast losing the thread 
of life. Then — ^the other man died.” 

I knew what he meant. I understood how 
that man had been strangled by the lanyard 
around his neck that the food might be saved 
for the girl. I guess this strange man was 
pretty nearly a savage; but I believed then — 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 145 

and I believe now — ^that he had done right. 

— Dao Singh — ^then fell asleep, Sahib. I 
believed it was to be my last sleep. But the 
Missee had her food and the water. 

see/’ I said, for he spoke only to me, even 
ignoring Mr. Barney. ^'Now you will both be 
saved. Our ship is at hand.” 

It is well. Sahib,” he sighed. “ Dao Singh — 
is the Sahib’s — servant — ” 

He fell back into the bottom of the boat and 
his eyes closed. I feared he had died then and 
there; but Mr. Barney bent over him, opened 
his shirt, felt of his heart, and then nodded to 
me with encouragement. 

^^He’s asleep,” he said. ^'Just done up — • 
plucky brown devil. A Hindoo, I take it. 
These folks were from a British ship; but that 
boat had no name on her.” 

Half an hour later we pulled under the Gull- 
wing’s rail. Ail hands were there to eagerly 
welcome us. We caught the falls and they 
hauled us up to the davits, heavy as the boat- 
load was. 

As we swung inboard I leaped down to the 
deck, still bearing the unconscious girl in my 
arms. 


Chapter XVII 

In Which We Learn the Particulars of the Wreck 
of the Galland 

Captain Joe Bowditch smiled down broadly at 
me from the poop as I leaped to the deck; but 
when he saw the burden in my arms his counte- 
nance changed queerly. 

^^What in the name o^ goodness you got 
there?’’ he barked. 

little girl, Captain Bowditch,” I replied, 
little — well! what d’ye think o’ that?” 
he gasped, waddling down the ladder. “Ye 
didn’t git that aboard the Seamew? Nor out o’ 
the ocean when ye went overboard, neither?” 

“No, sir,” said Mr. Barney, who had followed 
me. “She is what we found in that drifting 
boat — ^part of what we found, at least.” 

“A gal! Moses ter Moses, and all hands 
around!” groaned the captain. “Whatever will 
we do with a gal aboard the Gullwing?” 

“I don’t see how we could have left her there. 
Captain,” laughed Mr. Barney. 

“Now, don’t ye cackle!” snapped the old man. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 147 

^^Why didn’t you leave her for Cap’n Si? He’s 
a man that’s more used to female children than 
I be. Why, Cap’n Si’s sister married a man 
whose brother got spliced to a widder woman 
that had twin gal babies. He’s more fitten to 
take such a responsibility than what I be.” 

He looked as though he thought he had proved 
his case, too. But I was too much worried over 
the condition of the pretty creature in my arms 
to pay much attention to his growling. 

And when the Hindoo was brought inboard, 
Captain Joe went off into another fit. ^^Holy 
smoke!” he yelled. Another useless critter to 
feed. Didn’t you leave nothin’ in that boat for 
the Seamew?” 

^^We left a dead man,” chuckled one of the 
men. 

^^Well — we could have buried him easy,” 
grunted the old man. ^^Take that nigger below 
and find out what seems to be the matter with 
him.” 

But his bark was a whole lot worse than his 
bite. He hurried away to open the spare cabin 
for the girl, and I followed him into the after 
house, still bearing her in my arms. 

Mr. Bates, who had the deck, came to look 
down upon her pretty, white face as I started 
below. 


148 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


Bless her!^’ he murmured. '^Have a care 
with her, Clint. Glad to see you again, boy. 
Ah! that pretty one ought to bring us luck, sure 
enough.’’ 

Come right this way, boy, and lay her in the 
bed,” ordered Captain Bowditch. ^^My! she 
looks bad — ^but pretty! Sh! is she asleep?” 

And then the trembling lids, with their long 
golden lashes, opened slowly. With her com- 
plexion and hair, I had expected to look into 
blue eyes. But I was astonished to find that 
the little creature’s orbs were a beautiful, deep, 
deep brown, with golden sparks in their depths. 
My face was so close to hers at the moment her 
lids parted that I could see the reflection of my 
own countenance in the pupils. 

^^My soul!” murmured Captain Joe, looking 
over my shoulder, she’s jest the prettiest thing 
I ever see.” 

Her wan face changed slowly. A faint color 
was breathed over it. She gazed steadily into 
my countenance, and it was evident that I did 
not frighten her. She put up one hand and 
touched my cheek. I tell you, the touch thrilled 
me! 

Then her eyes closed again, she sank deeper 
into the pillow, and was again asleep. 

^^Here, boy!” croaked the master of the Gull- 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 149 

wing, trying to speak softly. ''You run and 
tell the doctor to kill a chicken and make some 
broth — strong broth, now. Don’t want no 
'phantom soup’ — suthin’ that tastes like a 
chicken did more than wade through a gallon of 
water on stilts. If he don’t make it good I’ll 
be in his wool!” 

I ran to do his bidding. I knew very well 
that the little girl would have the very best of 
everything there was upon the big schooner. 

In the dog watch I held a regular reception. 
The men were eager to hear the story of my ad- 
venture overboard, and old Tom Thornton de- 
clared I might live to be "a second Methuser- 
lum” and never experience a closer call than 
that. Old Stronson shook his head. 

"De poy iss fey,” he muttered, shaking his 
head. 

"He’s sure a lucky youngster,” declared Bob 
Promise. "No wonder he got the best of me 
when we had our set-to.” 

Thank and I had much to talk over. I know 
my chum had suffered in spirit when it seemed 
that I was drowned. He never would admit 
to the others that he had given up hope of seeing 
me again. Now he clung close around me and 
did not seem to want to let me out of his sight— 


1 50 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

not even long enough for me to go down to take 
a look at Dao Singh. 

^^Let that Jasper be, Sharp, Thank drawled. 

You canT kill a nigger easy — sleep wonT hurt 
him. If he was pretty near two weeks on watch 
in that boat, no wonder he’s all in.” 

'^He is a faithful creature,” I said. '^And he 
must love his mistress.” 

^^That Jasper’s taken a fancy to you, too,” 
Thank said. ^^You’re ^it’ with him.” 

I did not realize at the time how very right 
Thank was, and what it meant to be canyonized 
by Dao Singh. 

The report came forward that the little girl 
had taken some of the broth the cook had made, 
was seemingly satisfied with her surroundings, 
and had gone to sleep again. Mr. Barney told 
me that Cap’n Bowditch was peeking in at her 
every hour or so, and that it was plain the old 
man was prepared to get down on the deck 
and let his little visitor walk on him — if she so 
desired. 

But in the morning watch they called me and 
I found that the girl wanted to go up on deck, 
but had asked to be lifted by the boy who had 
taken her from the wrecked boat. She re- 
membered me, then ! And I had not really sup- 
posed she had seen me until after I had lain her 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 151 

down in the berth and she had opened her eyes. 

She had had some breakfast. There was a 
little flush in her face. She looked much 
brighter, and when she saw me she smiled de- 
lightfully. 

I know your face !” she said, and although her 
voice was weak, it was as sweet as a tinkling 
silver bell. was sure I could not be mis- 
taken.’’ 

^'Mistaken?” I asked, puzzled. 

^^Yes. You were the boy I saw before — oh, 
long, long before I came here.” 

That puzzled me, and I suppose my face must 
have shown my surprise. She laughed — a pretty, 
resonant chime. I fell for that voice of hers ! 

And then what she said about seeing me so 
long before got me going, too. 

^^Say, you never saw me before I got you out 
of that boat,” I declared. 

^^Oh, yes, I did,” she returned, confidently. 

haven’t been aboard this big ship long, have 
I?” 

''Only since yesterday,” I admitted. 

"That is what the nice captain told me,” she 
returned, as though satisfied. 

"Then you’ve seen me just once before. 
When I brought you below yesterday.” 

"But you took me out of the boat?” 


152 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


^^AbcI held me all the time we were getting 
here?’’ 

^^Yes, ma’am!” 

knew it,” she breathed, smiling up into my 
face again. knew it couldn’t be all just a 
dream.” 

The captain had fixed a chair himself, with 
blankets and the like, in the shade of the after 
house. There I laid her down and then, having 
no further orders, would have gone forward to 
my own place. But she clung to my hand. 

“You sit down here on the deck beside me, 
tell me your name, and all about you,” she said. 
“For although I saw you so long ago, I never 
learned who you were.” 

I looked up at Mr. Gates and the Captain and 
slyly tapped my forehead. I believed she was 
lightheaded. The old man nodded and said, 
gruflBy enough, for he was deeply moved: 

“You stay with her, Clint. Do jest what she 
wants ye to.” 

“Clint?” she repeated, questioningly. “Is 
that your name?” 

“Clinton Webb,” I replied. 

“ Clinton is pretty. You are English?” 

“I should say not!” I exclaimed. “American.” 


Clint Webb^s Cruise on the Windjammer 153 

‘^Oh, yes! I am an English girl; but I have 
lived in British India most all my life.” 

^^That^s it, Miss,” I said, knowing that the 
captain and mate were dying to hear her story. 

You tell us all about it. How did you come in 
that boat? And what vessel was it that was 
wrecked?” 

^^We sailed in the Galland, a big steamship, 
from Calcutta,” said the girl softly. was 
with friends. They were taking me home — 
'home’ means England to all British India 
people who are white.” 

"Then you were going to relatives?” 

"I do not know. I am not sure. My father 
had some people — once. But they treated him 
unkindly, I believe. He had not heard from 
them for years. My father was Captain Erskin 
Duane. He died very, very suddenly. My 
mother had been a long time dead,” and the 
tears now began to fill her eyes and creep down 
her pale cheeks. 

"Friends who were about to go to England 
took me on the Galland with them. These 
were Mr. Suffix, and Mr. and Mrs. Traine, and 
Cecelia Traverstoue.” 

"Were they saved?” asked Mr. Gates, quietly. 

"I do not know. I think not. I think the 
steamer’s boilers blew up and smashed most of 


154 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

the boats and liferafts, so that few were saved/’ 
said the girl, simply. 

‘‘You poor child!” breathed Captain Bow- 
ditch, blowing his nose right afterward like a 
fog siren. 

“I am Phillis Duane,” she said, after a mo- 
ment. “I traveled with my ayer and Dao 
Singh, who would not leave me when father 
died. He had always served the captain. We 
lived up country from Calcutta. 1 do not think 
that my father was very well acquainted with 
the people I sailed with, after all. I was alone, 
and they were just kind to me.” 

“And you don’t know what you were going to 
do when you reached England — -whom you 
would meet?” queried Mr. Gates, gravely. 

“No. It was all in the hands of my friends,” 
she said, shaking her head. “And I am quite 
sure they never got away from the Galland. I 
would not, had it not been for Dao Singh.” 

“That nigger, eh?” grunted the captain. 

“He is a Hindoo. He is a very intelligent 
man in his own language and among his own 
people. I have heard my father say so. I fear 
he sacrificed his caste by attending on the 
captain — ^and on me.” 

“But he saved you from the wreck?” I urged, 
keeping her to the story of the wreck. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 155 


“Yes. When the boilers blew up (the steam- 
ship had been afire all night) Dao Singh ran 
into the cabin and hurried my ayer and me out 
on the deck. Some men were lowering a boat. 
It was damaged some. 

“Singh tried to put the ayer and me in it. 
But I believe she must have fallen overboard, 
or been pushed overboard. There was much 
confusion. I was scared and cried. When I 
understood a little better about matters, we 
were in the boat, drifting without oars, and the 
Galland, all a mass of flames, seemed to be going 
down, stem-foremost, under the sea.^^ 


Chapter XVIII 

In Which I Become Better Acquainted With 
Phillis Duane 

There was little more to be learned, it seemed, 
about the actual tragedy of the burned steam- 
ship. How the fire had been started she could 
not say. She had been asleep. Her nurse, or 
ayer awoke her at the height of the stampede of 
passengers for the deck. Whether the officers 
and bulk of the crew had been killed by the 
explosion, or had abandoned the ship and her 
human freight, she did not know. 

The Galland had been some months on the 
voyage, having circumnavigated the world, when 
Phillis Duane and her friends boarded her at 
Calcutta. She had touched at Chinese ports, 
and again at Tahiti. She was a British tramp 
steamship and Phillis seemed to think that her 
home port was Edinburgh. It might be that 
the lost girPs friends were Scotch, and that the 
friends she traveled with were likewise Scotch, 
and that is why they had selected the ill-fated 
Galland to get home on. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 157 

you suppose that nigger knows?” de- 
manded Captain Bowditch, of Mr. Gates, in a 
whisper. 

Doubtful if you get anything out of him,” 
returned the mate. 

^^Understands English, doesn’t he?” growled 
the skipper. 

'^And speaks it. But these Hindoo servants 
don’t really know anything about the English 
sahibs they serve. The Britisher governs India 
in a boiled shirt and evening clothes. He is 
about as human to the natives as one of their 
own cast-iron gods. That’s how Johnny Bull 
has been able to boss the several million of 
blood-thirsty inhabitants of his colonies. No. 
The nigger wouldn’t be likely to know anything.” 

^^But why did he follow the girl to wait on her, 
then, Mr. Gates?” I asked. 

Because he’s a nigger — an inferior tribe. 
That’s the nature of ’em.” 

I did not believe it. I had never read that 
the people of Hindoostan were particularly in- 
ferior to the whites. And Dao Singh looked to 
me as though he knew a whole lot mure than the 
ordinary European. I was mistaken if he was 
not the best educated person aboard the Gull- 
wing at that moment! 

But it might be that the Hindoo knew nothing 


158 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


of the cause of the wreck and of what had be- 
come of her other passengers and the crew. 
Unless some other boats had been picked up from 
the lost Galland, her case was likely to be an- 
other of those unexplained tragedies of the deep 
which fill the columns of our newspapers for a 
few issues and then are forgotten — so easily 
forgotten! 

The officers and I had held the brief conversa- 
tion noted above when we had withdrawn out of 
earshot of the little girl. The cook had brought 
her a beaten egg to drink as a pick-me-up ’’ 
between breakfast and dinner. When she had 
finished it she looked around for me again. 

^^Go on, boy,’^ said the captain. ^^Keep her 
amused. Poor little thing.’’ 

^^And encourage her to talk with you, Clint,” 
advised Mr. Gates. ‘^Put what she says down 
in your log. If you do that, you may gradually 
get together a connected story of what and who 
she is. Such information will be valuable in 
aiding her to find her friends.” 

I thought well of that idea, and promised to 
do so; though I wondered how the mate knew I 
kept a log. I had taken notes of my adventures 
ever since I had been blown out to sea on my 
little sloop, the Wavecrest; but at this time I 
did not know what an aid to memory a log — or 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 159 

diary — would be. By the way, a seaman never 
calls it “logbook;” the daybook of a ship at 
sea is merely a “log.” One of the most popular 
magazines published has a correspondence de- 
partment called “The Logbook,” and that 
makes the sailor smile! 

I had no objection to being attentive to our 
little passenger. I judged her to be a mighty 
plucky little girl. Of course, her father had 
been dead long enough for the first of her grief 
to have been assuaged before she had sailed 
from India. And the friends she had sailed 
with had won her heart; therefore she had not 
loved them enough to miss them much now. 

She had endured privations in the drifting 
boat remarkably well. She told me of the man 
that had gone crazy and leaped overboard. She 
did not seem to know that the men aboard the 
boat with her had had no food. I began to 
have a remarkably high opinion of Dao Singh. 
Yet I knew very well that he had strangled the 
man I had found dead in the boat and had been 
unable to throw the heavy body overboard. 

There’s a vast difference between the negro 
race and the Hindoo, I thought, remembering 
Mr. Gates’ words, “This Dao Singh is a re- 
markable man, or I am much mistaken.” 

Mr. Barney came along and spoke to the little 


160 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


one, and she seemed to like him — ^as I had — at 
first sight. Afterward the young second mate 
talked a little in private with me. 

^^Mr. Robbins says she takes to you and is 
willing to talk with you, Webb.” 

^^Yes, sir.” 

^^And you’re trying to draw out from her her 
history?” 

“I am, sir.” 

^^It’s a good idea. There may be some dif- 
ficulty in getting trace of her friends.” 

^^Well, she sha’n’t suffer, if her friends don’t 
turn up,” I said, with emphasis. ^^My mother is 
rich and she will be glad to take Phillis herself, 
I have no doubt.” 

^‘That’s a good thing, too,” said Mr. Barne^^ 
heartily. ^^But you understand, my lad, that 
there may be friends expecting the girl in the 
Old Country, that she knows nothing about. 
We shall have to report the case to the British 
consul at Baltimore, and he will look up her 
folks — if she has any. In case there should be 
none, somebody might have to step in to save 
the child from being sent to an institution — in 
England, I presume. They would scarcely send 
her back to India.” 

“Not much, sir!” I exclaimed. “They will 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer I6I 

have to show pretty good grounds for taking 
her from mother — — 

^^Why, you don’t know whether your mother 
will take her or not,” laughed Mr. Barney. 

‘‘Yes she will,” I assured him. “She’d love 
to have a girl like Phillis.” 

And I had no fear on that score. Mother 
couldn’t help but fall in love with such a dear 
little thing as Phillis Duane. I was glad to see 
that Phillis seemed fond of me, too. I had 
never had a sister, and it struck me just then 
that a sister was what I had missed all my life! 

We were getting on fine together and she was 
chattering to me just as though she had known 
me for years, when I spied a figure coming 
waveringly down the deck from the forward 
house. 

“It’s poor Dao Singh!” exclaimed Phillis. 
And then she called to him in her sweet voice; 
but what she said none of us could understand 
as it was in his own tongue. 

He glided rather than walked along the deck. 
Somehow he had obtained clean garments; and 
he had washed his turban. Altogether he looked 
very neat and trim. But he was very weak and 
cadaverous. That Hindoo had come pretty 
near starving to death, and no mistake. 

When he had spoken to the girl in reply, bow- 


162 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


mg low before her, he turned quickly to me. I 
was not only astonished, but I felt mighty foolish 
when he dropped gracefully on his knees and 
touched the deck lightly with his forehead right 
at my feet. 

''Dao Singh is the servant of Webb Sahib,’’ 
he said, softly. 

^^For the love of Mike, get up!” I gasped, and 
I heard Thankful Polk giggling behind me, while 
Mr. Barney laughed outright. '^You don’t 
want to kneel to me.” 

Singh arose and stood, with dignity, before 
me. 

*‘Webb Sahib has but to command,” he said, 
quietly. ^^He is the friend and protector of 
Her Innocence,” indicating Phillis with a 
scarcely perceptible gesture. ^^His word is law 
to Dao Singh.” 

right, if that is so,” I said, glad that he 
had spoken too low for anybody else to hear. 
'Hf my word’s law, just you treat me with a 
little less deference. I’m only a man before 
the mast on this ship, and it won’t do to be 
kowtowing to me and treating me as you do the 
Memsahib. That’s all right for Aer, Dao Singh 5 
but I’m not used to it.” 

'Ht is as the Sahib pleases,” he replied, 
gravely. ^^He has but to command.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 163 

I begaji to wonder if a Hindoo, who was so 
enthusiastically my friend, might not prove to 
be something of a nuisance in the end! 


Chapter XIX 

In Which I Learn Something More About the 
Barney Twins 

The captain allowed Singh to wait upon his 
'^Missee^^ to his heart’s content, and I heard 
the two mates laughing over the fact that the 
Hindoo insisted upon acting as steward and 
waiting upon the Captain Sahib at table. The 
Old Man wasn’t used to having a man standing 
behind his chair at meals and it near took his 
appetite away at first. But Phillis being in the 
cabin and soon taking her meals at the first 
table, pleased the officers immensely, I could see. 

Forward, Singh was forever trying to do little 
things for me, and learning that I thought a good 
deal of Thankful Polk, the Hindoo included my 
chum in his voluntary services. He looked over 
our clothes and mended them, and insisted upon 
doing our washing. 

‘^That Jasper is just as handy as any house- 
broke nigger I ever saw,” declared Thank. 
^‘My folks owned slaves before the war 5 but I 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 165 

don’t know but being waited on by one is going 
to be too rich for my blood.” 

Thank saw no difference between a Hindoo 
and a Negro; anything off color was a ^‘Jasper” 
to him. But it tickled him when Singh called 
him ^^Polk Sahib.” With the other hands he 
was never familiar; but nobody save Bob 
Promise treated him unkindly. Bob was a 
bully, and that mean streak in him was bound 
to show on the surface every once in awhile. 

Meantime the old Gullwing was snoring away 
up the coast of South America. Not that the 
land was in sight, for we were miles and miles off 
shore; but the course she followed was parallel 
to the coast. The Seamew was not sighted for 
days at a stretch, and we did not know whether 
she was ahead of us or astern. I had an idea, 
however, that during the favorable weather she 
was walking away from us at a pretty lively gait. 

Since I had returned from my sojourn aboard 
the Seamew I thought that Mr. Barney treated 
me differently. That is, when we were off duty 
and chance threw us together. Before my acci- 
dent I had put on the gloves with him on several 
occasions, and he had been kind enough to say 
that I was as good a sparring partner as he had 
ever had. We took up this exercise again, as 
the weather remained so favorable. 


166 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


He was curious about the attitude of the 
Seamew’s company toward us, and whether 
they were as eager to win the race to Baltimore 
as were the men aboard the Gullwing. 

“More so,^' I told him. “They mean to beat 
us if they can — ^from Cap’n Somes all down the 
line.’’ 

He threw off the gloves and said, with a side 
glance at me: 

“My brother, too?^’ 

“Yes, 

“Just as eager as the others?^^ 

“Just as eager, sir.’^ 

He was silent a moment, as I got into my shirt, 
and then he shot at me : 

“What did you think of my brother, Alf 
Webb?’' 

I was rather taken aback for a moment. Then 
I saw that he expected a straight answer and I 
did not like to say that I did not like Mr. Alf 
as well as I did him. So I stammered: 

“I — thought there was something troubling 
Mr. Alfred’s mind.” 

“Aye?” returned Mr. Barney, cocking his 
eye. “There’s something troubling both our 
minds, I reckon.” And then, after a moment’s 
silence, he asked: “Will the Seamew beat us, 
Webb?” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 167 

^‘1 hope not!” I cried. ^'But the spirit 
among the crew of the Seamew is different from 
ours. Cap’n Somes would take any advantage 
he could to beat us; so would Mr. Hollister 
and — and — — 

'^And my brother?” 

am afraid so. That is the way it im- 
pressed me,” I admitted. 

'^Alf didn’t use to be like that,” said Mr. 
Barney, gravely. ^^But he and I have been at 
outs for some time. It’s a bad, bad affair,” he 
added, more to himself than to me. ''And it’s 
Uncle Jothan’s fault. Confound that old man, 
anyway!” he completed, with a good deal of 
emphasis. 

Then it was just as Job Perkins had told me! 
The rivalry between the Barney twins was 
fostered by their rich uncle. I had no comment 
to make — it wasn’t my place. But Mr. Barney 
seemed to wish to talk to somebody, and perhaps 
because I was so near his own age (he could not 
have been twenty-three yet) and came from 
people who were more like his own class, he 
warmed toward me for the moment. Perhaps, 
too, I am a sympathetic listener. 

"Alf and I,” said Mr. Barney, thoughtfully, 
"have always been more than brothers. We’ve 
been friends. There’s a difference. We under- 


168 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


staud each other fully — or always have until 
now. I never had any other chum, nor did he. 
We have been just as close to each other all our 
lives as the day we were born. 

guess we had to be,’^ he added, thought- 
fully, There wasn’t anybody else for us to 
get close to. Our mother died soon after we 
were born. Father was lost in that old leaky 
bucket belonging to the firm, the Timothy K. — 
named after T. K. Knight, who used to be head 
of Barney, Blakesley & Knight before Uncle 
Jothan worked up in the firm. 

And that’s what makes the old man so crazy 
now. He wants a Barney to take his place so 
that another Knight won’t boss things. He’s 
nutty on it — ^that’s what he is! 

Uncle Jothan has had the care of us since 
we were small, you see. It’s nothing to his 
credit, however. Father left some property — 
suflScient to give Alf and me our education and 
set us out into the world with a little something 
to rattle in our pants’ pockets besides a bunch of 
keys! 

'‘Old Uncle Jothan tried to set us boys at 
each other long ago. He tried his best to set 
one off against the other — ^to make Alf sore on 
me, or me sore on Alf. We didn’t see what he 
was getting at, at first. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 169 

^'But he didn’t succeed very well. He made 
his favor, and his money, and his influence an 
object for us to struggle for. As it happened, 
we just wouldn’t struggle. We would not be 
rivals. What one had, t’other had. And that 
satisfied us — until last year,” and Mr. Barney 
shook his head dolefully. 

^^When we got our tickets the old man was 
crazy to find out if one of us passed better than 
another. We were about equal, I reckon. 
What one knows about seamanship, the other 
knows. In navigation I’m sure we stood equal. 

'^That didn’t satisfy Uncle Jothan. The 
last day we saw Baltimore he had us to breakfast 
with him. He was more ornery that morning 
than ever before. 

^ You two boys make me sick!’ he said to us. 
^I believe you try your blamedest to keep even 
in everything.’ 

^And what if we do?’ I asked him. ^ Ain’t 
that as it should be? We’re twins.’ 

^You’re a pair of twin fools,’ says he, with 
his usual politeness. ^One of you don’t know 
which side of his slice of bread the butter’s on.’ 

''I looked at mine. ^The top side,’ I says, 
'so far,’ and Alf laughed. 

" 'And you’ll find it butter side down, if 
you don’t have a care,’ snarled Uncle Jothan. 


170 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


‘I got about tired of waiting for one of you to 
show some sense. I tell you there^s only room 
for one of you in the firm, and that one is going 
to handle my money. The other is going to be 
a poor man all his life.^ 

‘Which one^s going to be poor, and which 
one rich?’ Alf asked him. 

“ ‘You might as well tell us which will be 
rich, Uncle,’ I said, laughing. ‘For if it’s Alf, 
then I can begin to borrow from him right now.’ 

“ ‘That’s right,’ says Brother Alf. ‘What’s 
mine is yours.’ 

“That really made the old man mad, I expect. 
He pretty near gnashed his teeth. 

“I believe I’ve got a pair of totally con- 
demned fools for nephews!’ he yelled, only he 
put it even stronger. 

“Oh, he was mad! I saw that we’d gone too 
far with him. 

“ ‘Never mind. Uncle,’ I said, soothingly. 
‘We’ll both do our best for you ” 

“ ‘And your “best” will be just exactly 
alike,’ he cried. ‘When you get your mate’s 
tickets it will be the same, and in the end I’ll 
have a couple of masters of windjammers as 
near alike as old Somes and Bowditch. What 
one can do the other can do. Ye stood just the 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 171 

same in your books at school, and you stand 
just the same in your rating at sea/ 

expect the old man was pretty well heated 
up. But we just laughed as though it was a 
joke. 

‘I tell you what,’ says he, pushing back his 
chair. ‘You sha’n’t fool me no more. One of 
you is going to take his place in the firm at the 
end of this v’yge you are beginning. One of 
you will win and the other will lose. And 1^11 
never let a penny of my money get into the 
hands of the fellow that loses/ 

“Oh, he was quite in earnest, we could see. 
Alf looked at me and shook his head. It was 
past laughing at. 

“ ‘The Gull wing and the Seamew,’ says uncle, 
‘are putting to sea on the same day. They will 
practically make the same voyage. Now listen 
to me! Whichever of you boys steps ashore at 
Baltimore at the end of the voyage, that boy will 
be my heir, and the other sha’n’t have a cent. 
Now, that’s final. One of you has got to win, 
whether you want to, or not. I’ll settle it 
myself.’ 

“And with that he walked off and left us, too 
mad to even bid us goodbye,” said Mr. Barney. 


Chapter XX 

In Which Phillis Tells Me oj Her Dream 

I thought Mr. Barney had finished his story, 
he was so long silent. I saw, however, that he 
was still thinking of his brother, and I was not 
sure whether he was expecting a word of sym- 
pathy, or not. I reckoned he had been talking 
more to relieve his mind than for any other pur- 
pose. And finally he went on with it: 

Alf and I talked it over as we walked down 
to the docks. I told him I was sick of Uncle 
Jothan’s nagging. I wished he^d pick the one 
he wanted and close the discussion. I believed 
the price we’d have to pay for his money was 
too great, anyway. 

^But money’s a good thing,’ says Alf. ^ And 
Uncle Jothan has got a good deal of it.’ 

believe too much money spoils folks, 
Alf,’ says I. 

'We could stand some spoiling,’ he returns, 
laughing: 

" 'Look at uncle himself,’ says I. 'He’s 
spoiled.’ 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 173 

^I’m not afraid of being spoiled by it/ says 
Alf. 

^ I believe it would hurt you as quick as any- 
body/ I told him. And that riled him, though I 
had no thought that it would. 

^ Speak for yourself, Jim,’ says he. ^ Money’s 
worth going after.’ 

^ We’ve had everything equal so far, Alf,’ 
says I. ^I’m not hungry for his money.’ 

^And I suppose you think I am?’ and then 
I saw he was miffed. 

^The one that tries to get the best of the 
other for the sake of Uncle Jothan’s money, will 
show he’s hungry,’ I said. 

^Then call it what you like, Jim!’ he cries. 
^I’m going after it.’ 

^How?’ says I. 

^I’m going to beat you back to Baltimore,’ 
says he. 

'I’ll be hard to beat,’ I told him. 

" 'Wait and see!’ cried Alf, and with that he 
flung off from me and went his way to the 
Seamew alone. 

"I had to do an errand. When I got aboard 
the Gull wing the two schooners were just about 
to pull out. It was then old Cap’n Si made his 
bet with Cap’n Joe. I believe Alf put him up 
to it. When I saw Alf in Buenos Ayres I told 


1 74 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

him so, and he dido^t deny it,” said Mr. Barney, 
sorrowfully. 

^^When we met in the other ports we had 
words. I’m blamed sorry now, but it’s too late 
to patch it up. I’ll tell you honest, Webb, I 
don’t care who gets Uncle Jothan’s money and 
the job with the firm; but I’m going to not let 
Alf beat me to Baltimore if I can help it.” 

He went aft then without another word; but 
I did a good deal of thinking about the friction 
between the two Barneys. Privately I liked 
Mr. Jim Barney the better of the two; but it 
was a wicked shame that the head of Barney, 
Blakesley & Knight should have set the twins 
by their ears in this way. Money was at the 
root of the trouble. Mr. Jothan Barney seemed 
about to devote his wealth to as bad a cause as 
my grandfather had tried to devote his property. 

The Gullwing struck a streak of headwinds 
soon after this and we wallowed along without 
making much headway. That made us all feel 
pretty sure. It was a chance that the Seamew 
might have forged so far ahead of us that she 
had excaped these contrary winds entirely. 

Captain Bowditch was on deck almost all the 
time. His better seamanship began to be dis- 
played now. He took advantage of every flaw 
in the wind. He had us making sail, and reefing 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 175 

down, most of the time, and Bob Promise 
grumbled that we topmen had better stay up 
there in the rigging all the time, and have our 
meals brought to us by the cook. 

We saw nothing of the Seamew, and that 
added to our anxiety, too. Days passed and we 
crossed the line, under the heat of a tropical 
sun that fairly stewed the pitch out of the deck 
planks. Dao Singh seemed the only person 
aboard that accepted the heat with good temper. 

We rigged an awning for our passenger, and 
Phillis lived under it both day and night. She 
was getting plump and hearty, however; surely 
the voyage was doing her no harm. And she was 
the sweetest tempered, jolliest little thing one 
could imagine. It cheered a fellow up and 
made him ashamed to be grouchy, just to be 
near her. 

She liked Thankful Polk, and he amused her 
by the hour. The officers were pretty easy on 
Thank and I as long as we were with her. To 
me she clung as though I reaUy was her brother 
— and I was proud that she so favored me. 

Phillis told me much of her life in India— as 
far back as she could remember it. She had 
come out from England when she was very 
small. On her last birthday she had been 
twelve. But little that she could tell me would 


176 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


help in finding her relatives — ^if she had any. 

Her father, Captain Erskin Duane, had not 
been in active service. Not as far as she knew, 
at least. He had been an invalid for months; 
but had died very suddenly. There seemed to 
have been few army friends, and the people she 
had sailed with from Calcutta she had hardly 
ever seen before the captain ^s death. 

I had tried pumping Dao Singh about the 
private history of the little girl; but either he 
knew nothing about the captain^s affairs, or he 
would not tell me. He was as simple, ap- 
parently, as a child about his own expectations. 
He had insisted upon accompanying the little 
Memsahib in her voyage because she needed 
him.’’ Why he thought she needed him he 
could not, or would not, explain. 

For my part I told Phillis everything about 
myself, and recounted, from time to time, all 
the adventures through which I had been since 
leaving Bolderhead. I told her much about my 
mother, too, and about Darringford House, and 
our summer home on Bolderhead Neck. 

I assured her that I should take her at once 
to my mother when we landed and that I knew 
my mother would be delighted to give her a 
home with us. This seemed to please the little 
girl greatly. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 177 

^^Then we shall really be brother and sister, 
sha’n’t we?” she cried. 

“Of course,” I said. 

“That will be splended! For, do you know, 
Clinton, I think you are the very nicest brother 
I could have picked out. You are just as nice 
as I dreamed you would be.” 

“ There !” said I. “ You have said that before. 
How do you mean, that you dreamed about me?” 

“So I did. Only it was a dream that came 
true.” 

“You mean that you dreamed of me when you 
were aboard that boat?” 

“Oh, no! it was long before that. It was 
soon after we left Calcutta that I saw you,” 
she said, confidently. 

“Why, Philly!” I exclaimed. “That’s im- 
possible, you know.” 

“But I did dream about you,” she returned, 
seriously. “I knew that I was in a little boat. 
I thought I was all alone on the great ocean. 
And I was frightened, and sick — ^just as I was 
frightened and sick when the time came. But 
you came to me, and told me you would save 
me, and you held me in your arms just as you 
did hold me afterward all the way to this ship.” 

She was so positive that she had dreamed it 
all before, that I saw it was no use to gainsay it. 


178 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


And then, why should I contradict her? Per- 
haps she had had some secret and wonderful as- 
surance that she would be saved from the wreck. 
I did not understand the clarivoyant part of it, 
or whatever it might be; so I did not touch upon 
the subject again. 

It was after that that the great gale struck us 
and the staunch Gullwing was battered con- 
tinually for a week. We ran almost under bare 
poles for a time, and fortunately the gale favored 
us. But we lost our mizzen topmast com- 
pletely and some of our other rigging was 
wrecked. 

Phillis had to remain below during this storm, 
and she was sick again. She cried so for me 
that the captain — ^kind old man that he was — 
let me go down to her whenever I could be 
spared from the deck. The child seemed to 
feel that she was perfectly safe if I was with 
her. 

Her constant trust in me made a strong im- 
pression upon my mind. Nor was it an un- 
pleasant impression. Nobody had ever leaned 
before on me as this child did — ^not even my 
mother. It made me feel more manly and put 
me on my very best behavior. 


Chapter XXI 

In Which the Sister Ships Once More Race 
Neck to Neck 

That gale hit the Gullwing harder than any 
blow she had been through (so Mr. Barney said) 
since she had left Baltimore. We could not do 
much toward making repairs until the gale had 
blown out 5 we only cleared away the wreckage 
aloft, reefed everything snug, and let her drive. 

Captain Bowditch worried like an old hen 
with a mess of ducklings. I donT know when 
the old man slept. He was on deck every mo- 
ment of his own watch, and I could hear him 
often roaring orders during our watch below. 

This was the time when the fact that the 
Gull wing was shorthanded made the crew groan. 
It was up and down at all hours for us. If 
there was a lull in the gale we were yanked out 
and sent aloft to risk an inch more canvas. 
Cap’n Joe coaxed her along every chance he 
saw. The thought of getting ahead of the Sea- 
mew obsessed the Old Man’s mind while he was 
awake, that was sure! 


180 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


We discussed our chances forward with much 
eagerness, too. The Seamew had left us behind 
during the fair weather; we could make up our 
minds to that. But now we had a better chance. 
The Gullwing was better worked, short of hands 
as she was, than the Seamew. 

I remembered vividly how Cap’n Si Somes 
hopped about, and bawled orders, and seemed to 
get in his own way when a squall came up, or 
the weather was unfavorable. He was a more 
nervous man that our skipper; and, I believed, 
he was nowhere near so good a seaman. At 
least, I had got that idea in my head, and com- 
paring the actions of the two skippers in a squall, 
I guessed any unprejudiced person would have 
accepted my view as correct. 

We came out of this blow at last, fair weather 
returned, and Phillis had her awning re-rigged, 
and was able to come on deck again, although 
the Atlantic billows were tumbling heavily. 

All hands were busy on the new rigging. The 
captain had got up a spare spar and Old Tom 
Thornton and Stronson, went to work on that. 
The captain was determined to get up a new 
mizzen topmast and bend on new sails. Every 
square inch of canvas spread to the favoring 
breeze would aid us in the race home. 

V»"e had gotten now into the greatest ocean 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 181 

current in the world — ^the Gulf Stream. Ocean 
currents are mysterious phenomena. The source 
of energy required to set and keep the vast 
masses of water in motion has been productive of 
endless discussion. 

Temperature, barometric pressure, attractive 
force of the moon, have all been advanced as 
bringing about ocean currents. Seamen believe* 
that it is the wind that brings about certain 
oceanic movements. But the winds do not ex- 
plain the reason entirely — not even in any single 
case. As to the direct action of the wind on the 
surface of the sea alone, it has been shown that 
with a wind blowing at twenty-five miles an 
hour the surface water would have a movement 
of not more than fifteen miles in the twenty-four 
hours! The Gulf Stream is the greatest of the 
Atlantic currents, if not the greatest current on 
the wet portion of the globe. It is really a 
wonderful river — a river flowing through an 
ocean. Its temperature is different from the 
surrounding waters, it is of a different color, and 
the edge of it can be noted almost exactly wher- 
ever a ship crosses into or out of the Gulf Stream. 

This warm current starts between the coast of 
Cuba and the Florida reefs, and certainly with 
this mighty current the wind has absolutely 
nothing to do. The force of the current is at 


182 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


its maximum strength when it emerges from the 
Bemimi Straits, between the Bahama Bank on 
the east and the coast of Florida on the West. 
Between Fowey Rocks and Gun Gay Light the 
average depth of the Gulf Stream is 239 fathoms, 
and it runs at a speed of fifty miles in the 
twenty-four hours. Occasionally, under par- 
ticular circumstances, it will speed up to a hun- 
dred miles in the twenty-four hours. Little 
wonder that homeward bound windjammers are 
glad to strike the Gulf Stream. After we 
crossed into the clear azure of that current there 
was a steady tug on the GuUwing^s prow. 

^^The women-folks are pullin’ her home with 
their apron strings,” chuckled Captain Bow- 
ditch. 

I rigged fishing tackle for Phillis and she 
caught some of the smaller fish of the Gulf 
Stream — ^fish which cannot be caught in the 
waters even a short distance outside of the line 
of the current. They were brilliant trunk-fish, 
and angel-fish, and the like; not edible, but 
interesting to look at. 

Shark were plentiful, too, and followed the 
ship like dogs, to fight for the scraps the cook 
flung overboard. Thank got a big hook and 
about a pound of fat pork (he could wheedle 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 183 

anything out of the black cook) bent on a strong 
line, and we trolled for shark. 

We caught one about eight foot long; he was 
an ugly beast, and fought like a tiger when we 
got him onto the deck. He would snap at a 
broomstick and bite it through as neatly as we 
could have cut it with an axe. A sailor hates a 
shark just as the ordinary man ashore dislikes a 
snake. 

tell you what we’ll do with him,” said Bob 
Promise, chuckling. seen it done on the old 
Beatrix two years ago. We ^belled the cat ’ with 
an old he shark, and it’s an all right trick tu play 
on the dirty critters.” , 

^^How d’ye do it?” asked Tom Thornton. 

^^Lemme have that broken broomstick,” said 
Bob, grabbing it. “ Now watch — when he snaps 
at me.” 

The huge fish, lyiug on its side, with its wicked 
eye watchful of us all, opened wide his jaws when 
Bob Promise approached. The bully was a 
reckless fellow, and as the shark snapped open 
his jaws he thrust his hand and arm into the 
cavity and thrust the stick upright, far back in 
the beast’s throat. 

Thank actually screamed aloud, and I felt 
sick — I thought sure the foolish fellow’s arm 
would be snapped off between the closing jaws„ 


184 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


But the shark couldn’t close his jaws! That 
was the trick of it. The stick was thrust up- 
right, sticking into the roof of the great mouth 
and into the root of the tongue. The fish was 
^'belled” indeed. 

There it writhed upon the deck, thrashing its 
strong tail about, its wicked eyes rolling, and 
evidently in awful agony. 

^'Now pitch him overboard,” laughed Bob 
Promise. He’ll live some time that way — 
mebbe till he starves to death or until some of 
the smaller fish pitch upon him and eat his liver 
out. Ugh! the ugly beast!” 

Somebody took a turn of the rope around the 
fish’s tail and in a moment the shark was swung 
up by the falls we had rigged. But while he 
hung in the air and was about to be swung over 
the rail, Phillis ran up to us. 

‘‘Don’t!” she cried. “Don’t do it! I saw you! 
How could you be so dreadfully mean-^h! 
Clint! how could you do such a cruel thing?” 

I had been thinking all the time that it was a 
blamed mean piece of business; but I hadn’t 
had the pluck to say so! 

“You stand away, Missee,” laughed Bob. 
“He’s all right. Overboard he goes — ^plop into 
the sea — and it will be one murderin’ old shark 
fixed jest right.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 185 

^^You shall not do it!’’ she cried, and she was 
so earnest and excited that she stamped her little 
foot upon the deck. ^^It is wicked and cruel.” 

'^Why, it ain’t nothin’ but an old shark, 
Missee,” growled Tom Thornton. ^^He ain’t 
fit for nothing better.” 

^^He’s God’s creature. God made him,” de» 
dared the child. You’ve no right to maltreat 
him. It’s wicked. I won’t have it.” 

She was so excited I was afraid she would get 
sick. I put in my oar: 

That’s all right, Philly. None of us stopped 
to think of that side of it. Lower away here, 
boys, and we’ll knock that prop out of his 
mouth again.” 

you won’t!” exclaimed Bob Promise. 

I stopped and looked at him. ^^Why, sure, 
Bob, you don’t mind. If the little girl doesn’t 
want us to do it ” 

“Stow that,” said Bob, in his very ugliest 
tone. “That shark ain’t hers. I put that stick 
there. I want to see the man that’ll pull it 
out,” and he swelled up like a turkey-cock and 
acted as though he thought he was the biggest 
man who ever stepped on the Gullwing’s deck. 

But if he had been twice as big I reckon I 
should have stepped up to him! To have an}^- 
body speak before Phillis as he did was not to be 


186 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


endured. Thankful Polk flamed up, too, until 
you could have touched off a match on his face. 
Old Tom Thornton reached an arm across and 
put me back as lightly as though I had been a 
feather, and seized the rope above Bob’s hand. 

''Drop it, you landcrab!” he growled. Old 
Tom seldom got angry 5 when he did we knew 
enough to stand from under! 

And then appeared Dao Singh. How he had 
heard the racket I do not know. Light as a 
panther, and with an eye wickeder than the 
shark’s own, he slid along the deck and stood 
right at the other elbow of the bully. 

"Let the rope go, as Webb Sahib say,” he 
hissed into Bob’s ear. 

The bully was as amazed as he could well be 
and keep on his pins. He stepped back and 
glared from Thank and me to Old Tom, and then 
around at Singh. 

"Holy mackerel!” he murmured. "Do the 
hull of ye’s want the blamed fish? Then, take 
him!” 

The watch burst out laughing. Mr. Barney 
had himself come forward, and now he spoke. 

"Get a harpoon, Webb, and kill the beast at 
once. That will settle the controversy. I’m 
not sure that the little one isn’t right. We’re 
all too big to torture even such a beast as a shark.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 187 

That was the kind of influence Phillis Duane 
had over all of us. The captain had her on the 
bridge with him and showed her everything he 
did when he took the sun’s altitude, and all 
that. Mr. Gates talked with her by the hour. 
Mr. Barney was forever finding something new 
with which she could amuse herself. And the 
black cook and Dao Singh almost came to blows 
over who should wait upon her the most. 

Then came the day when, off Hatteras, we 
sighted another four-masted ship. She crept 
out of a fogbank to leeward of us and it was 
some time before we saw her clearly enough to be 
sure. That she was tacking northward was the 
main fact at first which urged us to believe it 
was our sister ship. 

But in an hour it came clearer, and we could 
be sure. It was the Seamew, standing in very 
prettily, and it was plain she had sighted us, 
too. We tacked and her course brought her 
across our stem. We ran so near the captains 
could hail each other. Old Cap’n Si waved his 
glass and shouted: 

^^We’re about to bid you a fond farewell, Joe! 
Next tack will put us ahead of you. That 
apple’s mine, by jolly!” 

Seems to me if I had such a great craft as 
the Seamew, I’d have got farther ahead than you 


188 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


be now/’ returned our skipper, with scorn. ‘^1 
reckon the race ain’t over yet.” 

“ It’s pretty near over. We got good weather 
cornin’. The Seamew can walk away with you 
in a fair wind.” 

AU right. Brag’s a good dog, but Holdfast’s 
a better one,” said Cap’n Joe. ^^Wait till we 
sight the Capes o’ Virginia.” 

She was too far away from us then for Cap’n 
Si to shout again. The rest of us had grinned 
or scowled at the men aboard the Seamew, as 
our natures dictated. I had noticed that the 
boat found adrift with Singh and PhiUis in it, 
had been hoisted aboard the Seamew and was 
lashed amidships. 

Away we went on our tack, came about, and 
again neared our rival. The Seamew was not 
pulling away from us much ; the wind was heavy. 
The Gull wing crept up on her and, finally, when 
the Seamew tacked again, we did the same and 
she had no chance to cross our bows, even had 
she been able to. 

So we sailed, neck and neck, not half a mile 
from each other, both ships plunging through the 
swells with a line of white foam under their 
quarters, and well heeled over to the wind. 
Whichever won the race — whether the Gull wing 
or the Seamew — it would be a good fight. 


Chapter XXII 

In Which the Capes of Virginia Are In Sight 
We had a stiff wind blowing — ^half a gale, in- 
deed — ^and when we raised other sailing ships, 
their canvas was clewed down and some of them 
were running under little more than stormsails. 
But neither the captain of the Seamew nor of the 
Gull wing had any intention of losing a breath of 
such a favorable breeze. 

Our ship heeled over until her rail was under 
water; and she was laden so heavily that this 
sort of sailing was perilous. Suppose some of 
the cargo should shift? Where would we be? 
Well, just about there, I guess! 

Some day the old man will carry the sticks out 
of her completely,’’ growled Mr. Gates to Mr. 
Barney. 

“Well, let him!” exclaimed the second mate. 
“We’ve got to win this time.” 

“What for?” I heard the other ask, curiously. 
“Just so Cap’n Joe will win his greening apple?” 
Mr. Barney cursed the captain and his apple, 
“You want us to win anyway, eh?” pursued 


190 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


Mr. Gates, in his slow, thoughtful way. ^'No 
matter what happens to the GuUwing?^^ 

She^s insured; so’s her freight,^' snapped Mr. 
Barney. 

‘^It doesn^t matter if both good ships should 
founder and be lost?’’ 

‘‘I don’t give a hang!” exclaimed the younger 
man, bitterly, ^'as long as the Gull wing goes 
down fifty fathoms nearer Baltimore than the 
Seamew.” 

^^And how about the crews?” 

Who’s thinking of men — or ships — ^just 
now?” demanded Mr. Barney. ‘^Aren’t both 
captains risking lives and property for a silly 
competition? I’m no worse than they are.” 

^^And so, the rivalry of Cap’n Joe and Cap’n 
Si will excuse your own mad determination to 
get to port first?” suggested Mr. Gates, quietly. 

don’t believe you’ll feel that way, young 
man, twelve months from now. And how about 
the little girl?” 

Pshaw! there’s no danger,” said Mr. Barney, 
lightly. 

I hope there will be no danger — ^no more than 
there is now, at least,” said the mate, signifi- 
cantly. Then he saw me on lookout and said, 
irritably: ^^Come away! This is no place to 
talk.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 191 


I wondered what the mate thought Mr. 
Barney would do for the sake of helping the 
Gull wing to win the race; but I heard nothing 
more of their conversation. This occurred in 
the evening when we could just see the ghostly 
sails of the Seamew as she stood on for us. Mr. 
Barney soon after took the wheel himself, it 
being the captain’s watch. From that point on 
to the end the second mate was more frequently 
at the wheel than at any previous time during 
the cruise. 

Day and night the two huge schooners ran 
almost even. Our skipper was seldom off the 
deck. I don’t know when he found time to 
sleep. He never lost a chance to make the most 
of a puff of mind. The men worked for him 
eagerly and well; but they stood double watches. 

Some of the small sails Cap’n Joe even had us 
dip overboard so that, well wetted, they would 
better hold the wind. It was four bells in the 
morning watch when the Seamew crossed our 
bow. She had been trying for it for twenty-four 
hours, or more. And when she cut us off and 
we had to take her white water, a groan of de- 
rision was raised by her crew. 

We were sore — every man Jack of us. Cap’n 
Joe and Cap’n Si had it hot and heavy from their 
respective stations. 


192 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


^‘Better give us a line aboard so^t we can tow 
ye in, Joe!’’ bawled Cap’n Si. 

^^You air mighty willin’ to give a helpin’ 
hand jest now, Si,” returned our skipper, with 
scorn. ^^But it warn’t alius so.” 

I saw Mr. Alf Barney at the Seamew’s wheel. 
He handled the ship splendidly. When the 
Seamew came about on the other tack, her helms- 
man met the waves just right and swung her 
over so that the sails scarcely shook at all. She 
reared up on one tack, turned as it were on her 
heel, and swept away on the other tack at a 
speed that sent the spray flying high above her 
rail. It was a pretty sight. 

Our Mr. Barney stood right beside me as I 
manipulated the Gullwing’s helm. He watched 
the handling of our rival with lowering brow. 

Gimme that wheel!” he snapped, pushing 
me away and seizing the spokes. The Gull wing 
was right in the eye of the wind. Cap’n Bow- 
ditch was shouting his orders. If the Seamew 
had rounded prettily, the Gull wing went her one 
better. We wasted less time hanging in the 
wind than the Seamew. 

That’s the way to do it!” bawled our skipper, 
dancing on the quarter. By j inks, Mr. Barney, 
you handled that wheel well. Keep her so! 
Steady.” 


Clint Webb^s Cruise on the Windjammer 193 

The second mate let me take the wheel again 
after a minute or two; and his face had remained 
unsmiling all the time. He had merely been 
determined to show them all that he could handle 
the big ship^s helm as well in every particular as 
did his brother. 

Our course was west-northwest now to the 
Capes of Virginia. The fresh gale was out of 
the same quarter. Therefore we had to beat to 
windward all the remainder of the race, and al- 
though the Seamew had gotten a little the start 
of us, the Gullwing had a slight advantage. 
She handled better to windward than her sister 
ship. 

The Seamew stood off on one tack, we on the 
other. She disappeared beyond the sea line, 
but standing in some hours later we found her 
again — and finding her were pleased more than 
a little in seeing that we had made something 
up on her. Our skipper’s shrewdness was tell- 
ing. 

I knew how it was with Cap’n Si; when things 
broke wrong for him he paddled about the deck^ 
cursing the hands and the wind and various other 
things, altogether irrational. Whereas our skip- 
per never lost a trick, kept his head, and never 
gave an order he was sorry for — and that last is 
saying a good deal. 


194 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


We filled away once more and stood back to 
her. We were making distance fast. Had we 
held on this time we should have crossed her 
wake almost under her stern. The man aloft 
suddenly sang out: 

^'Land, ho!’’ 

I heard the cry repeated in the Seamew’s tops. 

^^Cape Henry, sir!” shouted our man to the 
skipper. 

^^Aye, aye,” said Cap’n Joe, eagerly. ^^And 
when we tack back again we’re going to cross 
ahead of the Seamew’s bow — ^and the race will be 
over.” 

He said it with enormous satisfaction. He be- 
lieved it, too. 

^^Why will the race be over, Clint?” asked 
Phillis, who stood beside me at the moment. “I 
looked at the chart. We’re a long way yet from 
Baltimore. We are not in sight of the opening 
into Chesapeake Bay.” 

There are tugs waiting up there in the roads 
for us,” I told her. ^'You’ll soon see their 
smoke. They will race out for us, as we race in 
for the port. We shall go up to Baltimore under 
steam.” 

And my statement was scarcely made ere we 
saw in the far distance the pillars of smoke from 
the stacks of the ocean-going tugs. The land 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 195 

that had been merely a hazy line, grew more 
clearly defined, although we were not approach- 
ing it directly. Soon I could point out to my 
little friend the other cape guarding the mouth of 
the Chesapeake — Cape Charles. 

The tugs steamed out to meet us under forced 
draught. More quickly to get in tow of the tug 
nearest us, which was coming already hooked 
up, Cap’n Bowditch put the Gullwing about 
earlier than he had originally intended. As we 
tacked, so did the Seamew. 

“She’s afraid to give us an inch,” laughed Mr. 
Barney, taking his place beside the wheel again, 
and looking up at Mr. Gates. 

“It’s nip and tuck,” returned the first mate. 
Then to the skipper he said: “Shall I make 
ready to take the tug’s hawser, sir?” 

“Right-oh!” declared Captain Bowditch. 
“And be lively with it. We’re too close to fool 
away a moment. I hope we get the fastest tug.” 

“She’s the Sea Horse, Cap’n!” bawled down 
the man aloft. 

“Smart tug, she is,” agreed the skipper. 

“And I believe that’s the Comet makin’ to 
meet the Seamew.” 

“Both Norfolk Tug Company’s craft — and 
good ones. I wouldn’t give a dollar bonus either 
way on ’em, would you, Mr. Gates?” 


196 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


^^They’re just as near.alike as the Seamew and 
the GuUwing are alike,’’ agreed the mate, and 
went forward. 

We were standing in now directly for the 
channel. The Seamew was headed likewise. 
We were bound to pass close to our sister ship — 
so Qlose that, as the moments slipped past, I 
began to feel some disturbance of mind. 

Heaven knows the ocean was broad enough; 
but the two skippers were obstinate and eager. 
One would not be likely to want to give way 
to the other. And moment after moment the 
two great ships, their canvas filled and the 
white water split in great waves from their 
prows, rushed closer and closer together. 


Chapter XXIII 

In Which We Face Death by the Breadth of a Hair 

I had walked forward, anxious over the 
situation of the sister ships. Tom Thornton 
was right by my side, for Mr. Barney had taken 
the wheel himself. 

^^In case of doubt, I asked Tom, ^Vho gives 
way — the Seamew or the Gull wing?’' 

^'Why, the Seamew, of course,” growled 
Tom. 

“Are you sure?” 

“I be,” he said, emphatically. “No gittin’ 
around it. It has to be her gives way — not us. 
Both of us are close-hauled, that’s a fact; but 
we on this tack has the right of way. The 
Seamew ’s got to come about and give us the 
road. ” 

“She don’t look like she would,” I said, 
gravely. 

“Of course she will!” 

“Then she’ll miss meeting the other tug this 
time. It will give us a big advantage. ” 

“Don’t ye suppose our skipper knows that?” 


198 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


returned Tom, with a wide grin. ^^That^s 
what he aimed to do. Oh, Cap^n Joe is a 
cleaner, now I tell ye!’^ 

It did look to me as though the two great 
ships were rushing together. If they had been 
two bid-time frigates, aiming to come to a clinch 
and the crews ordered to ^^board with cutlass,” 
the appearance of the two could have been no 
more threatening. 

The Seamew^s men were grouped along her 
rail and swinging in her lower shrouds, watching 
us; and every person aboard the Gull wing, 
including the cook, was on deck. I heard 
Captain Bowditch growling to himself: 

^^What does that lobster mean? Ain^t he 
goin’ to give us no sea-way?” 

Mr. Barney had taken the wheel of the Gull- 
wing. I saw that his brother was already 
glued to the spokes of the Seamew^s wheel. 

’Ware what ye do there, Mr. Barney, 
sang out Captain Bowditch. 

''Aye, aye, sir.” 

"Keep her steady.” 

"Aye, aye, sir.” 

I caught old Tom by the sleeve of his jumper 
again. 

"Cap^n Si don^t mean to give way!” I 
gasped. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 199 

said the old seaman, reflectively, 
it’ll be up to him if he doesn’t. ” 

^^But 

^^It ain’t our place to give that blamed Sea- 
mew the whole ocean.” 

^^But if the Seamew wonH give way?” I 
repeated, vainly. 

“What! Not give way! That ’d be foolish, ” 
growled old Tom. “A man can go bullying 
his way ashore, pushin’ folks inter the gutter 
and all that, if he’s big enough — ^like Bob yon- 
der. But a captain can ’t do that at sea. He ’d 
only git what’s due him. He’ll have to give 
way. ” 

Yet no order was given from the Seamew’s 
quarter; nor did our skipper say a word. I 
could not believe that Captain Bowditch, even 
with the sea-law on his side, would risk his 
beautiful ship and the lives of her crew. Yet if 
the Seamew continued to run in on us much 
longer we would have to fall off, or collide with 
her. 

Little Phillis was sitting calmly under her 
awning, busied with some pieces of sewing— 
for she was a housewifely little thing. It 
struck me that an awful death was threatening 
the innocent child, and I moved toward her. 


200 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


Thankful Polk was working his way along the 
deck in the same direction, too. 

Captain Bowditch glanced at the child under 
the awning. If he had had any desperate 
intention of keeping on, whether or no, so as 
to pick up his tug ahead of the Seamew, I be- 
lieve the presence of Phillis Duane restrained 
him. His hard old face changed. 

The Seamew was holding on. She w-as go- 
ing to force us. The old man jumped to the 
rail and m^otioned with his arm for the helmsman 
of the Seamew to keep off. But Mr. Alf Bar- 
ney ^s gaze rested only on the face of his brother 
at our wheel; and Captain Somes never gave 
an order. 

Captain Bowditch turned and yelled: 

^^Keep off! keep off, I say! D'ye wanter 
wTeck us?'’ 

He started for the wheel. I do not know 
whether our Mr. Barney obeyed the order — or 
tried to obey it. The two great ships, their 
canvas bellied with the strong gale, seemed to 
sweep together as though they were magnetized! 

It may have been explained by the fact that 
we were so near each other that one took the 
wind out of the other's sails. At least, the two 
huge ships were no longer under control. 

“I'm hanged if she ain't got away from 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 201 

him!’’ I heard Tom Thornton yell; but which 
ship he meant I did not know. 

The Gullwing took a shoot. The Seamew 
took a shoot. Then the two ships clinched! 

Talk about a smash! It was the most awful 
collision one could imagine. Two express trains 
on the same track, coming head-on, could have 
made no greater explosion of sound. And it 
did seem as though no other kind of a collision 
could have resulted in so much wreckage. 

I grabbed up Phillis just before the ships 
came together, and dashed for the companion- 
way. But as I gained its shelter I saw the 
spars raining from aloft on both vessels, with 
the canvas and cordage in a perfect jumble. 

It fairly shook the spars out of the Seamew. 
I believed, at the last moment, that the Gull- 
wing had sheered off. At least, she had taken 
the blow on more of a slant. The wire stays 
upon our sister ship had been torn away and 
her foremast came down and hung over the 
rail a complete wreck. 

Her other masts wavered. I could see that 
she was shaking like a wounded thing; I be- 
lieve she was settling even then. She had 
opened a great hole in her hull forward. I 
could see the ragged, splintered ends of the 
planks. 


202 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


Our own damage and peril I could not guage 
until I had set Phillis down and rushed back to 
the deck. The old Gullwing was hobbling 
away from her sister ship. Captain Bowditch 
was bawling orders from the bridge; but I 
heard nothing but screams of rage and fear 
from the Seamew. And Captain Si Somes was 
no longer in sight, 

^^Axes, men!’’ roared our skipper. ^^Get 
aloft there! Cut away wreckage! Clew up 
everything that ain’t torn away. Look alive, 
up there, Mr. Gates.” 

^^Aye, aye, sir!” responded the mate from 
forward. 

^^Keep her steady, Mr. Barney!” com- 
manded the captain. 

I heard no response. I glanced aft as I 
worked my way up the backstays. Mr. Jim 
Barney still stood at our wheel. He hung to 
the spokes and held the ship steady. But a 
whiter face and a more miserable face I had 
never seen upon mortal man. 


Chapter XXIV 

In Which the Tragedy of the Racing Ship Is 
Completed 

League upon league of the sea — across and 
again across two oceans — the sister ships had 
raced, to fall afoul of each other here almost 
within sight of port! 

While we aboard the Gullwing were cutting 
adrift the wreckage for dear life, another mast — 
the mizzen — ^fell across the Seamew. She was 
down dreadfully by the head. We could hear 
the roar of the water pouring into the hole 
stove in her hull. 

I knew Mr. Hollister^s voice, and he was 
shouting orders to the crew. But nobody 
heard Cap’n Si speaking; nor was he in sight. 
I knew as well then as I did afterward that, 
at the moment of the collision, the master of 
the Seamew went overboard, sank, and never 
came up again! 

Down came the aftermast of the Seamew; 
the mainmast was swaying. I reckon the crew 


204 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

responded to Mr. HoUister^s orders not at all. 
I heard the wail of: 

''Boats! boats! take to the boats !’^ 

But when they took another look at the 
wabbling masts, they waited to launch no 
boat. With a few words but much action the 
crew went over her rail, now almost even with 
the sea, and one after the other began to claw 
out for the Gullwing which lay to not two 
cable’s lengths away from the sinking ship. 

But Mr. Alfred Barney held to the spokes 
of her wheel; he made no offer to leave the 
Seamew, although Mate Hollister, like the men, 
was already in the sea. 

As I hacked at the steel cordage and broken 
spars I heard Captain Bowditch shouting di- 
rections to the men below, and to the men in 
the water. Ropes and life buoys were flung to 
the seamen from the sinking ship. In this com- 
paratively quiet sea there was little liklihood of 
any of them being drowned. 

Mr. HoUister waited to see his hands drawn 
over the rail of the Gullwing before he came 
inboard himself. But while this was going on 
Captain Bowditch discovered the missing second 
mate still on the wreck. 

"Come away from that!” he shouted to 


Clint Webb's Cruise on the Windjammer 205 

Alfred Barney. ^^Come on! Jump in! We'll 
haul you out." 

The young man made no reply, nor did he 
move from the wheel. 

“Come away, you fool!" roared Captain 
Bowditch. 

But Alfred Barney, like Jim Barney, seemed 
frozen to the spokes of the wheel. The thought 
in my confused mind was: Had the two brothers 
deliberately wrecked the sister ships? 

The Gullwing had recovered from the shock 
of the collision. She was not going to sink — 
at least, not right away. All her crew were 
inboard now, and Mr. Hollister followed. No- 
body spoke of poor Cap'n Si. We all knew 
that he was missing. But there was a great 
to-do about Alfred Barney. 

“What does that etarnal fool want to stay 
over there for?" yelled Captain Joe to Mr. 
Hollister. “Is he a dummy?" 

“He iss/e?/," whispered old Stronson in my 
ear. 

“Looks like it was his fault the ships came 
together, " said Bob Promise. 

We had descended to the deck again now. 
Our upper works were in an awful tangle; but 
we could do no more at present. The tug was 


206 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

steaming in near to us now and it did not matter 
if we did drift. 

All our eyes were fastened upon the Seamew. 
She was going down steadily, head-on. Al- 
ready her bows were being lapped by the waves 
clear to the butt of the jib-boom. 

Mr. Hollister sent another wailing cry across 
to the second mate at the Seamew’s wheel; 
but the figure did not move, nor did Alf Barney 
make any reply. 

Suddenly our Mr. Barney left the helm. He 
just motioned to me, and I grabbed the spokes. 
He sprang to the rail and held out both his 
arms to his brother. 

^^Come! Alf, Alf! Cornel^’ 

Then it was that Alfred Barney turned his 
head and looked across at us. His face, white 
as his brother's had been, broke into a frosty 
smile. He raised one hand and waved it to 
his twin. And then- 

There was a roar of sound, a rush of wind, 
a yell in chorus from all hands aboard the Gull- 
wing, and the mainmast of the Seamew came 
rushing down, astern! The great spar had 
been shaken loose and it fell with all its weight 
along the deck of the laboring schooner. The 
topmast broke off and sprang into the air, along 
with a tangle of steel cable and shredded sails. 

And when that topmast struck the deck 
again it wrecked the Seamew’s wheel and 
pinioned Mr. Alfred Barney beneath its wreck- 
age! 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 207 

A general shout of horror arose from the Gull- 
wing; but above it rang the clarion tone of 
Jim Barney’s voice: 

^^Boat! Boat! Launch the quarter-boat!” 

Our men sprang to their stations; the young 
second mate gave his orders quick and sharp. 
Captain Bowditch did not gainsay him. Mr. 
Jim Barney had it all his own way. 

His crew — ^the same that had manned the boat 
when she had picked up the castaways — quickly 
took their places in the craft. She was lowered 
with a plop into the sea. 

^^Give way, men!” 

They bent to the oars like giants. The boat 
shot across the sea to the fast sinking Seamew. 
I held the spokes of the Gullwing’s wheel idly 
and watched. Indeed, the tug coming up to 
hook us attracted no attention from anybody 
aboard our ship at that moment. 

The Seamew was wallowing deep in the 
water now. Her head was under and her stern 
was kicking up. She was about to dive like a 
duck to the bottom. 

Suddenly the air-pressure below blew oS 
her forward hatch. Instantly the waves broke 
across the deck and the water poured into the 
open hatchway. 

Swiftly and more swiftly she sank. When 
our boat came to the hulk, she presented a steep 
side for one to mount from the small boat. 

''Alf! Alf!” we heard our second mate yell. 
We could not hear that there was an answer 


208 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

from the man under the wreckage of the top- 
mast. 

‘^Hold her in close, boys!’’ commanded Mr. 
Jim Barney. ^^Give me that boathook!” 

You ’ll be drowned, sir!” I heard Thank- 
ful Polk cry. 

She’s going down — she’ll suck us all under, ” 
declared Bob Promise. 

Stand by, as I tell you!” commanded the 
second mate again. 

In a moment he had fastened the boathook 
somehow, and went up hand over hand. He 
seized the rail of the sinking ship. The small 
boat backed away. I believe Bob Promise 
thrust her off with his oar. 

^^Look out there!” bawled Captain Bow- 
ditch, from our poop. You ’re taking your 
life in your hand, lad!” 

Mr. Jim Barney merely waved his hand, 
notifying the master of the Gullwing that his 
warning had been heard. But he crawled 
right up to the stern over that wreckage. He 
did not look back once. 

And down settled the Seamew, lower and 
lower. She was under seas as far back as the 
stump of the mainmast. The water boiled 
around her. There was good reason for our 
men in the quarterboat to back off. Once 
caught in the suck of the sinking ship, our men 
and their craft would go under, too! 

I saw Mr. Jim Barney spring over a pile of 
debris. He stooped, tore away some of the 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 209 

wrecked stuff, and then stood up with his 
brother’s body clasped in his arms. 

For an instant I saw the white face of the 
unconscious man. There was a streak of crim- 
son on his forehead. Jim Barney looked down 
into the countenance of his brother and the 
men in our quarterboat uttered in chorus a long- 
drawn cry. The Seamew was going down. 

Slowly, the eddying water seething about her 
wounded hull, the ship settled. 

^^Jump!” shouted Cap’n Bowditch, leaning 
over the rail, his own face pallid and his eyes 
aglare. 

But that would not have saved them. Mr. 
Barney could not have leaped far enough with 
his burden to have overcome the suck of the 
maelstrom forming about the wreck. And it 
was right for the men in the small boat to sheer 
off. 

The wreck slid under the surface. Almost 
the last thing we saw was Mr. Barney, holding 
his burden in his arms, his own face still bent 
above the unconscious countenance of his 
brother. 


Chapter XXV 

In Which a Very Serious Question Is Discussed 

The boat from the Gull wing was so near the 
maelstrom caused by the sinking of the ship 
that her bow was sucked under and she shipped 
a lot of water. We saw the boys bailing ener- 
getically. 

Then Thank stood up and cast off his outer 
clothing and his shoes. Bob Promise, who 
pulled the bow oar, followed suit. They each 
took the precaution to lash the end of a line to 
one wrist before going overboard. Where the 
Seamew had sunk was a circle of tossing waves, 
and broken bits of wreckage were popping up 
from below in a most dangerous fashion. 

The suspense aboard the Gullwing and in 
the boat was great indeed as the two young 
fellows went down. If the Barneys had been 
entangled in any wreckage on the lost vessel. 
Thank and Bob would never be able to reach 
them, for the sea at that spot is very deep, and 
the hulk of the schooner would finally rest upon 
the bottom. 

Mr. Gates had run back to the stern and stood 
beside me, gazing off across the tumbling sea. 

^'God help the boy!’^ he muttered, and I 
knew he referred to our Mr. Barney. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 21 1 

doubt now he’d rather be under the seas than 
above after this day’s work. ” 

^^Do you believe it was Mr. Barney’s fault?” 
I whispered. 

He started and looked around at me. I 
repeated my question. 

“Was it Jim Barney’s fault?” he returned. 
“What do you think?” 

“I don’t believe it. He sheered off ” 

“Too late,” muttered Mr. Gates. 

“Just as soon as the captain ordered him 
to,” I declared eagerly. “When Captain Bow- 
ditch ordered him to ^Keep off’ he swung her 
over. I saw him.” 

“It was too late then, I tell you,” declared 
the first mate of the Gullwing. 

“But how about Mr. Alf Barney?” I cried. 
“He held on to the course all the time till she 
hit us.” 

Mr. Gates said nothing. 

“If it was anybody’s fault it was Mr. Alf 
Barney’s,” I repeated, stubbornly. 

“No. It cannot be laid to his fault in any 
case,” said the mate, sternly. 

“Why not, sir?” I asked. 

“ Because his captain gave no order. Captain 
Si had the deck. He was in command. ” 

“Then Captain Bowditch is at fault, too,” 
I declared. “He did not speak quick enough. ” 

“He gave the order quick enough,” returned 
Mr. Gates, gloomily, “but Jim Barney hesi- 
tated. That’s where the fault lies. Jim Bar- 


212 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


ney hated to give the Seamew right of way, 
and he held us onto the course after he was 
ordered to keep off. That^s where the fault 
lies, my boy — that’s where it lies.” 

At another time I do not suppose the mate 
would have discussed the point with me, I 
being merely a foremast hand. But we were 
all stirred up and for the moment quarterdeck 
etiquette was forgotten. 

But in a moment there was a cheer raised in 
our little boat, dancing out there on the swells. 
Thank’s head appeared, and one hand grasped 
the gunwale of the boat. He dragged into view 
the two Barney’s, locked in an embrace that 
could not be broken. 

Bob Promise came to his help instantly. 
Together they held the twins up. Both the 
Barneys were unconscious. Mr. Jim must have 
had a frightful fight down there under the sea 
to hold to his brother and get out of the strong 
suck of the settling wreck. 

The brothers were hauled into the small boat, 
and then Thank and Bob followed. As quickly 
as possible she was rowed back to the Gullwing. 

Meanwhile the big tug Sea Horse had 
steamed up to us and rounded to under our 
bows. The hawser was passed and Mr. Gates 
took charge of the rigging of the bridle. Our 
skipper himself went to the rail to meet the in- 
coming boat. 

^'Good boys,” he said, warmly. ^Ht’s a 
pity poor old Si warn’t found, too.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 213 

I wondered if that was so. It seemed to me 
that Captain Silas Somes was the man mainly 
to blame for the tragedy. I could not believe 
that the onus of it would be heaped upon our 
second mate. 

The boat was hoisted in. Both the Barneys 
remained unconscious; but Mr. Hollister and 
the captain declared they would be all right 
soon. Mr. Alf Barney had not been seriously 
injured by the falling of the mast. They were 
taken below and Mr. Hollister took charge 
of them, with one of his own hands to help in 
bringing the brothers back to their senses. 

The Gullwing quickly felt the tug of the 
hawser binding her to the Sea Horse and with 
her sails clewed up she wallowed on though 
the choppy seas into the broad mouth of the 
Chesapeake. 

No need of aiding the steam-tug by hoisting 
sail. The race was over. The Seamew had 
run her course and the Gull wing was the winner. 
But a sorry winning of the race it proved to be. 

Mr. Gates kept both watches at work for a 
time making the loose spars secure. The steel 
stays that had been broken had to be reset, or 
we might have one of our masts coming down 
as the Seamew’s had. 

The work was done before the second dog- 
watch and then we had a chance to sit down and 
fraternize with the men from the Seamew. 

^'What gave the old Seamew her ticket,” 
said Job Perkins, ^'was our changing a live 


214 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


man for a dead one. When Clint, here, went 
over the side and a man that had been gar- 
roted came back inboard, I knowed we was 
in for trouble. And that ten dollars you^re 
to pay me at Baltimore,” he whispered in my 
ear, ain't going to pay me for the dunnage I 
lost.” 

'^How d'ye s'pose that feller got strangled 
with his lanyard?” demanded another of the 
Seamew's men. 

Ask that nigger they've got aboard the Gull- 
wing here,” growled another. ^‘He knows. 
And he '11 hafter tell it to the consul. ” 

But I made up my mind that, if it were pos- 
sible, Dao Singh should not be obliged to go 
before any court, or any consul, to explain that 
matter. The fact was, there wasn't anything 
he could explain. Under a dreadful provoca- 
tion he had killed the sailor. But I doubted 
if his excuse for committing the act would be 
accepted by the law. 

The men were mainly interested, however, 
in the circumstances surrounding the collision 
of the sister ships and the sinking of the Sea- 
mew. The great question was: Who was at 
fault? But we conducted the discussion in 
very low tones, that the officer on deck might not 
overhear us. 

“Talk as ye please,” grunted Job Perkins. 
“If two other men — men that warn't Bar- 
neys — had been at the helm of the two ships, 
there wouldn't never been no trouble.” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 215 
declared I, our Mr. Barney sheered 

off.” 

^^Not soon enough,” said Tom Thornton, 
shaking his head. 

^^Just as soon as the order was given!” I 
cried. ^^And it wasn’t our place to give way, 
at that.” 

^^Oh,” said Job, we ’ll all grant the old man 
— Cap’n Si — ^was the main one to blame. 
Leastways, he’s the one dead, and the dead 
man is always blamed. But Mr. Alf Barney 
never got no word to change his helm — ^and 
yours did.” 

^^The ships come together; they was bound 
to do so, sooner or later,” said old Stronson, 
shaking his head. ^^It iss not de men iss to 
blame — ^no! You remember the Chieftain and 
de Antelope? Dey was sister ships, too. Dey 
could not be anchored within a cable’s length 
of each odder, or dey come togedder.” 

By jings! the old man’s right,” declared 
Tom Thornton. sailed on the Antelope 
once. There seemed to be magnets drawin’ 
them two ships together. Gettin’ under way at 
Savannah we bumped the Chieftain and tore 
away her fore chains and made a mess of our 
own bows. ” 

heered if the two craft was anchored full 
and plenty apart, and in no tideway, they’d 
rub sides within twenty-four hours,” said 

another man. , „ , , , o. 

''And das iss de trut’,” declared Stronson. 


216 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


‘^Dey wass sister ships — ^like das Seamew and 
Gullwing. Nopoty can keep dem apart when 
dey gets jest so near to each odder. 

That's so! I bet that was what did it more 
than the Barney boys," agreed Job Perkins. 

^^Sich things happen, as we knows," said 
Tom Thornton. 

And I declare, all the old fellows went off on 
this tangent and accepted this idea as the true 
explanation for the sinking of the Seamew. 
They talked it over and became more and more 
positive that it was so. The superstition that 
the sister ships had a natural attraction for 
each other took a firm hold upon their minds. 
I could see plainly that if the firm had any of 
these old barnacles into court, they would 
swear to this ridiculous idea. At least, it might 
throw a bit of weight against the idea that the 
Barney boys had deliberately wrecked the two 
ships. 

‘^Jest the same," observed old Tom, slowly, 

study on it as we may, there's one place where 
it'll be decided for sure, as far as the legal end 
of it goes. The insurance court will have the 
last say." 

Wrong you be, Tom," declared Job, wrong 
you be. The final settlement of the hull matter 
will be in the offices of Barney, Blakeslee & 
Knight. Never mind what the court says, nor 
how the insurance is adjusted; them two boys 
will hafter go before the firm. " 

‘^By mighty! that's so," agreed Tom. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 217 

the way it’s turned out,” pursued Job, 
looks like Mr. Jim Barney would have the 
best of it.” 

“How so?” we asked. 

“Don’t you see that he’s bound ter be first 
ashore at Baltimore?” and the Seamew’s oldest 
hand chuckled. “He’s come through on his 
ship and will stand first in the old man’s esti- 
mation — ^no matter how he done it. Ye know 
Jothan Barney.” 

“By crackey! will Mr. Jim beat Mr. Alfred, 
then, and be boss of the firm?” Thankful Polk 
demanded. 

“That’ll be the end of the story, son,” said 
Job, turning his cud in his cheek. “Old Jo- 
than sent ’em out, one ter beat the other. By 
jinks! one has beat the other. No matter how 
he’s done it. It’s done, and so old Jothan will 
agree, I reckon.” 

“But won’t the firm punish Mr. Jim?” I 
asked. 

“I wanter see the firm do anything that old 
Jothan don’t want it to do,” scoffed Job. 

“And that’s so, too,” agreed old Tom. 

“Then, believing that Mr. Jim Barney de- 
liberately wrecked the Seamew so as to beat 
his brother into Baltimore, you fellows think 
his uncle will receive him with open arms?” 

“That’ll be about it,” said Job. “Jothan 
Barney is that way. He wanted one of his 
nephews to show what they call ‘initiative’ 
and all that. Jim Barney’s showed it ” 


i 


218 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


^^And risked drowning a whole ship^s crew — 
two ships’ crews, in fact! — including his 
brother?” I cried. ^^You believe he did that 
just to get ahead and win his uncle’s approval?” 

‘‘That’s it,” said Job. 

“Then if he hated his brother so,” I de- 
manded, raising my voice in my earnestness, 
“why did he risk his own life to save him?” 

The men were silent for a moment. Then 
Mr. Gates’ voice came booming forward from 
the quarter: 

“You men stow your jaw-tackle. You’re 
gassin’ too much. ” 

That ended the discussion. But I was by 
no means convinced that the seamen understood 
the two Barneys. I had an entirely different 
idea of how the matter would fall out in the 
end. 


Chapter XXVI 

In Which Is Told How the Barney Boys Go Ashore 

Of course, the sinking of the Seamew would 
be reported by the tug Comet, that had gone 
out to meet her, and the news would be tele- 
graphed to Baltimore long before we reached 
the port. The owners would know all about 
the trouble, and I reckon Captain Joe Bow- 
ditch had pretty serious thoughts that night as 
we were towed up the bay. 

It was a lovely evening and Phillis came out 
on deck and begged me to sit with her. She 
had not been so greatly frightened when the 
two ships collided, because I had been right 
with her and the trouble was over so quickly. 
I hated to think of what might have happened, 
however, if it had been the fate of the Gullwing 
to sink instead of her sister ship. 

Since they have been carried below, uncon- 
scious, none of we foremast hands had seen 
the two Barney boys. We only knew that they 
had both recovered and were none the worse 
for their ducking. 

It was now the captain^s watch, however, 
and Mr. Jim Barney came up and paced the 
larboard side of the deck, aft. It was not long 
before I caught sight of a similar figure pacing 


220 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


the starboard side of the house, and knew that 
Mr. Alf Barney had come up, too. 

Philly and I had been whispering together 
under her awning and suddenly she put her 
finger on my lips to enjoin secrecy, and tripped 
away to Mr. Jim Barney’s side. 

She tucked her hand in his, I could see, and 
walked beside him. I am not sure whether 
she said anything to him, or not; but I know he 
did not send her away from him, although he was 
on duty. 

Then, after a bit, I saw Philly go to the other 
side of the deck and join Mr. Alf Barney. She 
must have got acquainted with him below deck, 
for he welcomed her warmly. They talked 
earnestly for a few moments, and then the little 
girl ran back to me. 

I had been gazing idly off over the rail, watch- 
ing the lights ashore, and thinking of my home- 
coming. In this land-locked bay I could be 
pretty safe in believing that I would soon be 
with my mother. 

Of course, through the machinations of my 
cousin I had been kept from coming directly 
home when I was at Punta Arenas. But Paul 
Downes would not be in Baltimore when we 
landed, to trouble me in the least. Once I got 
ahore with Phillis and Thank, I was determined 
to hike for Darringford House in short order. 

I had enough money to pay two railroad fares 
home — the little girl’s and my own. Thank and 
I were to receive no wages for our work aboard 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 221 

the Gull wing. But I would leave Thank enough 
money to keep him until I could telegraph him 
more from Darringford. 

He proposed to go home himself for a time — 
back to Georgia. He had a half sister there 
that he wanted to see. Then he was to join 
me for the balance of the summer on the Mas- 
sachusetts coast. We had already planned 
great fun at Bolderhead, despite the fact that 
my bonnie sloop, the Wavecrest, was far, 
far away — ^at Buenos Ayres. 

The matter of Dao Singh was not so easily 
adjusted. I knew very well that Captain 
Bowditch would insist upon reporting the case 
of Phillis to the proper authorities at Balti- 
more. That would include the examination 
of the Hindoo on the details of the wreck of the 
Galland. And just as sure as they got the 
man into court I knew he would convict him- 
self. 

I was not willing to see the examination 
dragged on for weeks, perhaps months. And 
the end was not sure, either. I did not want 
Dao Singh punished; and I knew that it would 
trouble Philly greatly if the man was not at 
her beck and call most of the time. 

However, if Dao Singh, as a pertinent wit- 
ness in the case, was not to be found, I believed 
I could get any fair-minded court to ^ place 
Phillis in the care of my mother until the 
matter was concluded. That was the scheme 
I had in mind. 


222 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


Therefore, when we landed I proposed that 
Dao Singh should disappear. I had already 
sounded him. I had no money to spare, but 
he seemed to have worn a belt about his waist 
under his clothing, in which he told me he 
carried valuables. Money I supposed. 

Nor was he ignorant of the port to which we 
were bound. He had studied the geography 
of the world and he had corresponded in some 
way with members of his own race located 
in Baltimore. 

'^To them will I go, Webb Sahib, directly 
the ship docks. If there is hue and cry, they 
will not find me. When your augustness and 
the Memsahib en train for your home, I shall 
en train likewise. I shall not be far from you.’’ 

^^But you will not know when we go,” I 
cried. 

^^Let not the Sahib fear for that. Dao 
Singh will have means of knowing. Your 
movements, Webb Sahib, will be learned, al- 
though I be afar. Fear not. ” 

And this is all he would tell me. Rather a 
rare bird, was Singh. He treated me always 
with immense deference, waited on me when 
I would let him, hand and foot, yet always 
retained an air of being upon a mental or 
spiritual plane immensely removed from my 
own. And I’m not at all sure that he was 
not possessed of intelligence far above the 
crd.-^r of the European or American. 

Bi t I have got away from my text. Philly 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 223 

and I were sitting watching the lights on shore. 
As we were under towage, the watch on deck 
had little to do. Therefore the captain did 
not mind being aft with the little lass. 

Suddenly I saw the two Barney boys cross 
the deck and stand together under the break 
of the quarter. It was dark there and I could 
not see how they looked at each other, nor 
could I hear what they said. But they stood 
there for some minutes and, when they sepa- 
rated, and Mr. Jim went back to his duty, I 
hoped that they had not parted in anger. 

It seemed a dreadful thing if either, or both, 
of the twins should be accused of losing one 
ship and all but wrecking the other. As young 
merchant officers, just starting out in life, the 
affair would about ruin them. And if old 
Jothan Barney stuck to his word and took 
Jim Barney into the firm, and gave him all his 
money, what would become of Mr. Alfred? 

At midnight I turned in; Philly had sought 
her cabin long before. She wished to be up 
bright and early to see the Gullwing docked. 
But I could not sleep for milling over the case 
of the Barney boys in my mind. 

My watch was called at eight bells to wash 
down and make the deck as tidy as possible 
for the docking, . although we were not yet 
far north of the mouth of the York river. The 
best we could do, however, our beautiful Gull- 
wing looked like a drunken old harraden that 
had been out all night! 


224 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


The day was beautiful. As the shores and 
islands were more clearly revealed, Philly's 
delight knew no bounds. 

‘^Oh, the land! the beautiful land!” she 
sighed. want to jump for joy.” 

‘^Have you got enough of the sea for all 
time? ” 

do not think I am afraid of the sea — not 
as afraid as I was once,” she replied. “But 
think how good it will be to step ashore! I 
really don’t feel, Clint, as though I would care 
to sail again right away.” 

And despite the sorry story we had to tell 
of the Seamew, there was a briskness in every- 
body’s movements that told of shore leave, 
and most of the men’s faces were agrin. Those 
forward were making up parties for certain 
pleasures and entertainments which had been 
denied them for so many months. 

Old Stronson was going immediately to the 
Bethel, there to pay Captain Sowle the dollar 
he had owed the good superintendent for five 
years and more. 

“I do that chob at vonce,” said the old man, 
“pefore somet’ings happen to me. Meppe 
Captain Sowle vill take my moneys for me 
and find me a goot berth aboard some gentle- 
man’s yacht. Das berth I like, I t’ank.” 

I knew he wanted to get away from the drink 
and I hoped with all my heart that the old 
man would be able to do so. 

Tom Thornton had a married sister in Balti- 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 225 

more, over to whom the bulk of his paycheck 
was always paid by Barney, Blakeslee & Knight. 
He would be put up by her, and cared for, and 
kept straight as long as possible; then the old 
man would go to sea again — in the Gullwing 
if possible. 

As for Bob Promise and some other of the 
younger men, they were all for ^Hhe sporting 
life.” 

’m goin’ to tog meself up in decent clothes, ” 
said Bob. ‘^No slops or sheeny hand-me- 
downs for me. You watch my smoke, boy, 
when I get ashore. I ain’t sure that I won’t 
go up to some swell hotel and stay for a week. 
I reckon my bunch of coin will stand for it, 

Never a word about salting some of the money 
away for some worthy object. Jack Tar of the 
merchant marine has only two states of exist- 
ence — slavery aboard ship and license ashore. 
There seems to be no happy medium for him. 

The Sea Horse towed us into our berth. 
The hawsers went ashore and we were warped 
in beside the dock amid a deal of clatter and 
confusion. 

There was a crowd to receive us. Some of 
these people were newspaper men. The sto^ 
of the wreck of the Seamew had appeared in 
the Baltimore morning papers and reporters 
for the afternoon sheets were here for the par- 
ticulars at first hand. Nobody was allowed 
aboard, however, although the quarantine ofii- 


226 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

cers had given us a clean bill of health down 
the bay. 

I saw standing upon the dock a tall, withered 
old man, with a very sharp face and white hair 
and mustache. He looked like a hawk, and 
was dressed all in shabby black. Without 
asking, I knew this to be old Jothan Barney, 
the head of the firm that owned the Gullwing. 

I did not see either of his nephews greet him 
from the ship. Mr. Jim had plenty to do while 
the ship docked, and Mr. Alf was not far from 
his brother at any time. Indeed, I was not 
the only person who noticed that the Barney 
boys stuck together. 

A section of the rail had been removed amid- 
ships. A narrow gangway was run out from 
the dock, the ropes were caught by two of the 
seamen, and the plank made fast. 

First ashore!’’ sang out the old man and 
looked from our Mr. Barney to his brother. 

We aU fell back for a moment. It was evi- 
dent that the Barneys would go ashore even 
before Cap’n Joe. They approached the plank 
and both smiled. 

‘^AU right, Alf?” I heard Mr. Jim say. 

^H’m with you, Jim,” was the reply. 

And with their arms locked, the twin brothers 
walked ashore together and went straight to 
stand before old Jothan Barney! 


Chapter XXVII 

In Which I Receive a Telegram That Troubles Me 

For a moment there was a dead silence among 
the crews of the sister ships. Then Captain 
Bowditch himself took off his hat and started 
the cheering. 

And how he did yell ! If both vessels had come 
home safely we could not have given tongue 
more joyfully. For in that moment every 
man of us knew that whatever friction there 
had been betwixt Jim and Alf Barney, they 
were once more brothers and friends! 

Of course, the crowd ashore thought we were 
just glad to get home again — ^that we were 
expressing our satisfaction upon getting to 
Baltimore, safe and sound. But the Barneys 
knew what it meant and both of them waved 
their hands in response to our hearty hurrah. 

As the newspaper reporters crowded aboard 
to interview Captain Bowditch I saw that the 
three Barneys walked away. The old man did 
not even speak to the skipper of the Gullwing. 
I reckoned any comment upon the skipper’s 
actions by the members of the firm of Barney, 
Blakesley & Knight would be postponed until 
some later time. 

The newspaper fellows were eager for a story; 


228 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


but Mr. Gates and Mr. Hollister shooed^' 
them away from the foremast hands. The men 
would not be discharged until the next day, 
when they would be taken to the offices of the 
firm for a settlement of their accounts, and to 
receive their discharges. Until that time they 
must remain aboard and continue under the 
discipline of the officers. 

^Hf you writer chaps,’’ said Mr. Gates, with 
a grin, ^^want to get these old hardshells to 
spinning yams, you’ll have to wait till they 
lay their course for Front Street. You’ll have 
to be contented with facts from Captain Bow- 
ditch just now.” 

So the stories of the Seamew’s tragedy were 
not very ornate in the afternoon papers after 
all; and public interest in the affair was soon 
quenched. 

When my watch was piped to dinner the 
doctor gave me the tip to wait on deck and in 
a few minutes Mr. Gates beckoned me to the 
afterhouse. 

^^Quarterdeck etiquette is busted all to flin- 
ders, Clint,” he said, in an unusually jolly tone, 
for he was naturally a grave man. But the fact 
that we were in the home port after so many 
months was bound to thaw the iciest manner. 
“You’re to dine with the old man and Miss 
PhiUy.” 

It was a shame the way I looked! My second 
suit of slops from the chest were pretty well 
worn out and my head was a regular mop. I 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 229 

had reckoned on seeing a barber about the first 
thing I did when I went ashore; and I hoped 
to squeeze out money enough for a cheap suit, 
too, in which I might make a more presentable 
appearance going home. 

“Never mind your clothing, Clinton,” said 
Captain Bowditch, when I made some remark 
of this kind. “We’ll excuse your looks.” 

“And I’m not much better off than you,” 
laughed Philly. “I have to go to bed when 
Singh washes this dress.” 

“By the way, where is Singh?” demanded 
the captain. “After dinner I want we should 
all go up to the British consul — and I want 
Singh to go to.” 

But Dao Singh was not to be found. I said 
nothing about my talk with the Hindoo. I 
knew that nobody had seen him after we got 
into our berth. He might, even, have gone 
ashore ahead of the Barneys. However, gone 
he was and the captain was quite put out. 

“That’s the trouble with these natives,” 
he growled. “Can’t trust ’em. I’d ought 
to put him in irons — — ” 

“What for. Captain? What has poor Singh 
done?” asked Philly. 

And then the captain took a tumble to him- 
self. The little girl knew nothing about the 
man murdered in the boat from the wreck of 
the Galland. 

“Well, it’s a serious thing — ^for me — to have 


230 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


let him get away without his going before the 
authorities,’’ Captain Bowditch growled. 

That was not exactly true however. Nobody 
would blame him because the Hindoo had de- 
parted. But the old man said he would take 
us both up town right after dinner. I begged 
for a little time to make myself presentable 
and was given an hour’s leave ashore. I found 
a barber and got my hair trimmed properly and 
then w’ent to a second hand shop and got an 
outfit of coat, pants and shoes, with a new hat 
for six dollars. Nothing very fashionable, you 
may be sure; but I reckoned the butler would 
let me into the house with ’em on — by the side 
door, at least! 

So the captain and Philly and I walked over 
to the British consulate and saw a young man 
with eyeglasses and something of a lisp, dressed 
in clothes that could not possibly be made so 
badly anywhere else but in London. He was 
a nice young man, though; and he insisted upon 
making tea for Philly w^hen he heard that she 
had been two \ weeks in an open boat, as 
though she might still need a pick-me-up” 
because of that adventure. 

It seemed that he had already heard of the 
loss of the Galland. Her burned hull had been 
sighted by two steamships and reported before 
the Gull wing arrived in port. But none of 
the crew^ or passengers of the iU-fated ship, 
until Phillis Duane came, had been reported 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 231 

as saved. The Galland had been posted as a 
complete loss, with crew and passengers. 

^^What puzzles me,’’ said the English official, 
^'is the distance the Galland and the boat you 
found drifted apart. Her bulk was reported 
as sighted only a day or two after your Gull wing 
picked up the little girl and the Hindoo.” 
The captain had already explained about Dao 
Singh. ^^Yet,” continued the consul, ‘'the Gal- 
land had drifted far up the coast in the steam- 
ship route — she’s a dangerous derelict, and 
has been so reported to the Hydrographic office 
at Washington, and to Lloyds in London. 

“Whereas, Captain, the latitude and longi- 
tude you give is far, far to the south. South 
of the Straits, in fact.” 

“Three hunder’ mile sou ’east of the Capes 
of the Virgin, sure enough,” admitted Captain 
Bowditch. 

“Yes. The Galland had come through the 
Straits and must have met with her accident 
not far outside. It seems strange that only 
one boat got away from her — ^and that one 
improperly manned.” 

“As near as we can find out, sir,” said the 
skipper, “she had but two seamen in her beside 
the Hindoo and the little girl here.” 

He had taken the captain and I into his pri- 
vate office while he examined us regarding the 
particulars of the affair. I told him frankly 
about the dead man in the boat. 

“ I must find this Dao Singh, ” he said. “ Un- 


232 


From Sea to Sea; or, 


til I get him I caanot call the case closed, of 
course. And then, there’s the little girl.” 

Captain Bowditch spoke up for me, then. 
He had had a good report of me from Captain 
Hiram Rogers of the Scarboro, and he believed 
what I had told him about my folks. He 
would go bail for my appearance, and the pro- 
duction of Philly safe and sound, whenever we 
should be wanted. 

very good arrangement,” agreed the 
consul, seemingly mightily relieved regarding 
the girl. He was a bachelor himself. ^^Mean- 
while I will do my best to locate her people. 
Of course, she must have been consigned to 
somebody in England, even if she does not 
know who. It seems to me as though the name 
of Captain Erskin Duane is not unfamiliar to 
me.” 

So we got away from there after a while. 
When I had gone ashore to get my fancy rig- 
out I had sent a telegram to Ham Mayberry. 
I did that so as not to startle my mother, be- 
lieving that Ham would know how to break the 
news of my arrival to her better than anybody 
else. Ham had been with us so many years 
that he was like one of the family. 

And having telegraphed him I was mighty 
anxious for a reply that aU was well. 

Captain Bowditch left us to report at the 
offices of the ship owners and Philly and I went 
back to the GuUwing where Ham was to send 
his message. It had arrived while we were at 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 233 

the consul’s and Mr. Gates handed the envelope 
to me the moment I came aboard. 

With some perturbation, I broke the seal, and 
to say the least I was amazed when I read 
Hamilton Mayberry’s telegram: 

‘‘I will meet every train. Speak to iiobody 
until you see me. — ^H. M.” 


Chapter XXVIII 

In Which My Homecoming Proves To Be a Strange 
One Indeed 

Naturally I thought that Ham^s telegram 
spelled trouble; but I kept my thoughts to 
myself. I did not feel like discussing the 
matter even with Thankful Polk. 

We had begun to break out the Gullwing’s 
cargo and worked until dark. The next day 
the roustabouts would come aboard and relieve 
us of that. All hands (save Thank and I) 
would go up to the ojBBice to be paid off. 

We in the forecastle heard nothing about 
the Barneys that day, nor did Mr. Jim return 
to the ship. We spent the evening skylarking 
on the forward deck. A man had come aboard 
with an accordion and the men danced, and 
sang, and had a general rough-and-tumble 
jollification. But I only looked on. Tomorrow 
would close such scenes for me — ^perhaps forever. 

In the morning a lawyer and his clerk came 
aboard to take testimony regarding the loss 
of the Seamew. Just as I had supposed, the 
men who talked most were the old fellows who 
believed that the two ships had come together 
because of some supernatural attraction. The 
real incidents of the collision were buried under 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 235 

a heap of rubbish, testimony that would help 
the courts and the insurance people mighty 
little in getting at the facts of the case. 

I was thankful that the lawyer did not put 
many questions to me. I stuck to my belief 
that Mr. Jim Barney had obeyed Captain 
Bowditch’s order to change the course of the 
Gull wing as soon as the order was given. 

When the examination was over there was 
a deal of bustle in preparation of all hands 
going ashore. I paid Job Perkins the ten 
dollars I had promised him and lent Thank all 
I could spare after saving out enough for the 
tickets for Philly and myself to Darringford. 

I suppose I might have borrowed a little 
money from Captain Bowditch; but Thank 
could get along until I could telegraph him a 
hundred from home. He had agreed to accept 
that much from me, and promised to join me 
at my mother’s summer home later. 

Then we bade the men good-bye, and shook 
hands with the skipper and Mr. Gates and Mr. 
Hollister. Thank went with Philly and me to 
the railroad station. There I hoped to find 
Dao Singh — and Philly was anxious about him, 
too. But the Hindoo did not appear. 

We could not wait for him; nor did I know 
how to find him in Baltimore. But I told 
Thank to keep a watch out for him, and if he 
saw Singh to let me know at once by telegraph. 

We took the fast express for Boston and only 
had to transfer at one point. From that point 


236 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


I had engaged seats in the chair car and berths 
for both Philly and myself. There was but 
one day coach attached to the train when we 
changed, and we were scarcely aboard when a 
tall, turbanned figure appeared at the window 
beside my seat. 

“Oh, Dao Singh!” cried Philly, and then 
rattled away to him in his own tongue. 

He made me a low obeisance. I have come. 
Sahib, as I promised,” he said, softly. “I 
take train here with you and the Memsahib. 
I ride forward in the other coach;” and bowing 
he left us. 

I saw that he had a complete new outfit — 
a costume of his own country. He was a 
strange looking object as he stalked away to 
take his place in the day car. 

I sent Ham another wire to say what hour 
we would arrive at Darringford station. I 
was sincerely worried about my mother. Per- 
haps she was ill. Perhaps — I dared not rumi- 
nate farther on that subject. 

Phillis was greatly interested in the country 
through which the train flew. We looked 
pretty shabby — ^both of us — ^to be riding in a 
first-class coach, and the other passengers were 
curious about us. But we made no acquaint- 
ances on the way. 

We arrived safely in Boston in the morning, 
and crossed the city to the other station. We 
had not long to wait for a local train that 
stopped at Darringford. It was not long after 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 237 

nine o’clock when the train stopped and we 
disembarked. 

I saw Ham instantly; but he did nbt have 
our carriage. There was nobody else to welcome 
me — ^there was nobody about the station, indeed, 
who recognized me. I had changed a good 
deal during the twenty-two months I had been 
away. 

But old Ham knew me. He rushed at me 
and wrung my hands and sputtered something 
at first that I could not understand. At last 
he said: 

^^And ye couldn’t have timed it better. 
Master Clint. You’re just in the nick of time. 
The court sits in ha’f an hour.” 

Then he caught sight of Phillis and Dao 
Singh right behind me. 

^‘What’s all this?” he muttered. 

^^I’ll tell you later,” I said. ^Ht’s too long 
a story to give you now. Besides, you’ve got 
to tell me things first. Isn’t the carriage here? 
Can’t we aU go right to Darringford House? 
Haven’t you told mother?” 

He shook his head slowly. 

Can’t take you home, jest yet. Master 
Clint,” he said. 

^^But mother! is ?^’ 

''She ain’t sick, and she ain’t well. Only 
poorly. Nothing to be worried about. And 
now that you’re here I reckon things will be 
straightened out all right.” 

"Chester Downes!” I ejaculated. 


238 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

^‘Yes. He’s cutting up didoes,” grunted 

Ham. 

^^But where is Lav\^er Hounsditch?” I cried. 

And then Ham did amaze me — ^and startle 
me, too. 

^^Old Mr. Hounsditch died a month ago, 
Clint,” he said. ^^It was sudden. He was 
an old man, you know, and there is nobody to 
take his place.” 

^^My guardian is dead, then!” I exclaimed. 

^^He was co-trustee with your mother, Clint. 
That’s where the trouble lies. Chester Downes 
is riggin’ to get appointed in his place. It 
comes up before the Judge of Probate this 
morning. You ain’t but jest in time.” 

That woke me up, now I tell you! All my 
wits were working in a minute. Ham needed 
to make little more talk about it for me to 
fully understand what was threatening. 

‘^And mother didn’t object?” I asked. 

^^You know what a holt Downes has over 
her,” Ham said gravely. ^^She did want him 
to wait until you came home. We got your 
letter from Valpariso and we knew the Gull- 
wing was about due in Baltimore. But Chester 
Downes — ^you know him!” 

^^Let us take my little friend and Dao Singh 
to the hotel,” I said. ‘^They can wait for us 
there. I must have a lawyer. Ham. ” 

got you one,” said the old man, quickly. 
^^We’d have gone before the court if you hadn’t 
come in time and tried to get a stay. ” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 239 

^^Who is he?” 

‘^Colonel Playfair.” 

I knew him by reputation. A better man 
didn’t live in Darringford, nor a better lawyer — 
now that Mr. Hounsditch was dead. And it 
seemed to me that I remembered something 
about Colonel Playfair and my gran^ather 
having once been close friends. 

'^Have you got any money, Ham?” I asked 
him. ^‘For I haven’t a cent.” 

^‘Plenty,” he replied. 

^^Get a carraige, then, and drive us to the 
hotel first; then to Colonel Playfair’s office.” 

“Aye, aye, sir!” returned Ham and in a few 
moments we were off in a station hack. Ham 
on the seat with the driver. 

Mr. and Mrs. Bramble kept the Darringford 
Hotel, and I left Philly in the good lady’s care. 
Dao Singh remained with her, of course. Then 
Ham and I raced to the office of the lawyer. 

It was already half past nine. There was no 
time to lose if the matter of an appointment of 
a new trustee for the Darringford estate was 
the first item on the docket. 

I knew Colonel Playfair by sight — a soldierly, 
white haired veteran with one arm. His shabby 
offices were in a brick building near the court- 
house. I don’t suppose he would have known 
me in my present guise had not Ham Mayberry 
vouched for my identity. 

“A close call, young man,” he said. “I 
understand you object to this Chester Downes 


240 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

being appointed in the place of Mr. Houns- 
ditch?^^ 

more than object/’ I cried. won’t 
have it!” 

^^Hoighty-toighty!” he said. That’s not 
the way to go into court. You have a choice, 
of course; but don’t speak that way to Judge 
Fetter. ” 

‘^No, sir,” I said, restraining myself. 

^^And you must have somebody else in mind 
to suggest for the appointment.” 

^^You are familiar with the situation. Col- 
onel?” I asked. ^'You knew my grandfather, 
and you know how he made his will?” 

Humph! I know all about it,” he returned, 
grimly. 

^'You are the man to take Lawyer Houns- 
ditch’s place. The co-trustee should be a 
lawyer, anyway.” 

^‘Well, well, I don’t know about this,” he 
said, slowly. ^^You really should have another 
attorney, then, to appear before Judge Fetter. ” 

^^Jest git it put over, Colonel,” said Ham, 
eagerly. ^‘Then we kin settle about the trim- 
mings afterward.” 

The colonel laughed and took up his hat. 

^^All right,” he said. We ’ll go across to 
the judge’s chambers and see what we can do,” 
and he led the way out of his office. 


Chapter XXES 

In Which Mr. Chester Downes and I Again 
^^Lock Horns” 

This had not been the home-coming I had 
looked forward to. I had not desired to take 
up the pld fight with my uncle, Mr. Chester 
Downes. But it seemed as though circum- 
stances were forever opposing us in some wrangle 
or other! 

We three, with the old Colonel leading, went 
quietly into the room where Judge Fetter held 
his court. Nobody noticed us and Colonel 
Playfair motioned Ham and I to seats well 
back in the room. There were maybe a score 
of people on the benches. The lawyers and 
those individuals who were pertinently inter- 
ested in the matters to be arranged, were allowed 
inside the rail before the Judge^s desk. Col- 
onel Playfair went up there and the justice 
nodded to him. Nobody knew whom he repre- 
sented, or in what matter he was interested. 

I saw Mr. Chester Downes at once* but my 
uncle did not see me. He sat with his back to 
me, in fact, and beside him was a slim and sleek 
looking man with a green bag before him on 
the table. 


242 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


^^That^s Jim Maxwell/’ whispered Ham. 
^'Atid he’s the kind of a lawyer that Chester 
Downes would cotton to, all right. I ain’t 
got no manner o’ use for Jim Maxwell. He’s 
one o’ them landsharks, he is. ” 

The proceedings droned along for a time. 
Two matters of probate were settled before our 
case came up. Then his clerk handed Judge 
Fetter some papers, he put on his nose glasses, 
glanced at them, and said: 

^‘In the matter of the appointment of Mr. 
Chester Downeis as co-trustee with Mrs. Mary 
Webb, Widow — ^the Darrington Estate. There 
is a minor child, I believe? You speak in this 
matter, Mr. Maxwell?” 

have the honor to do so,” said the sleek 

man. 

There is no objection to the appointment, 
I understand?” pursued the Judge. '^The 
widow is satisfied?” 

^Wery much so,” declared the lawyer. 

^^She is not here present?” 

^‘lU health, your honor,” said Maxwell, 
briskly! But Mr. Downes, who is her brother- 
in-law, has been her man of business for years. 
Mr. Hounsditch, lately deceased, although ap- 
pointed under the will, was merely a figure-head 
iu the affairs of the estate. ” 

''And this minor child — how old is he?” 

" Seventeen. ” 

"Ah. He has no choice, then? He does not 
object to his uncle as a trustee?” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 243 

'"The boy has run away from home, your 

honor. He is a little wild ’’ began Mr. 

Maxwell. 

I was so enraged that I could not keep my 
seat; but Ham pulled me back. ^^Take it 
easy, Clint,” he whispered. 

‘^In that case,” the judge mooned along, 
rustling the papers, “there being no objection, 
and Mr. Chester Downes’ bond being entirely 
satisfactory ” 

Colonel Pla^air arose. The Judge looked 
at him in surprise. 

“I beg pardon, Brother Playfair,” he said, 
politely. “You surely do not appear in this 
matter? ” 

“Yes, your honor, I do,” said the Colonel. 

“You represent anybody interested?” 

“I most certainly do,” said the Colonel. “I 
represent the minor child, Clinton Webb.” 

Mr. Chester Downes leaned forward and 
whispered to his lawyer. The latter sprang 
up again. 

“I beg Colonel Playfair’s pardon,” Maxwell 
said. “Does he state that he has been engaged 
directly by the boy mentioned to represent 
him before this court?” 

Colonel Playfair was silent for a moment, 
and the other lawyer went on: 

“For if not, I object. No engagement of an 
attorney by outside parties will stand, your 
honor. We expected some interference by oflS- 
cious friends of the misguided boy. His mother 


244 From Sea to Sea ; or, 

is his legal guardian, Mr. Hounsditch being 
dead 

“Wait, ” said the Judge, patiently. “ Colonel 
Playfair knows the law as well as any man 
here,’^ and he smiled and bowed. “State 
your position, sir, he said to the Colonel. 

“I represent the minor, your honor, ” he said, 
quietly. “If it becomes necessary application 
will be made for the appointment of both a 
guardian as well as co-trustee of the estate, 
on behaK of Clinton Webb.’' 

“But the boy has run away! He is incor- 
rigible,” cried Lawyer Maxwell. 

“Brother Maxwell is misinformed,” said the 
Colonel, suavely, “ If he does not know the 
truth, his client does. Clinton Webb did not 
run away from home. He was blown out to 
sea in a little sloop from Bolderhead. It is a 
matter of record — newspaper record, your honor. 
He was picked up by a vessel bound for the 
South Seas. From that distance he has only 
lately been able to get a ship homeward bound. ” 

Chester Downes was whispering again to 
his lawyer. The eyes of the sleek Mr. Maxwell 
snapped. 

“Your honor!” cried he, interrupting Colonel 
Playfair. 

The colonel politely gave way to him. The 
Judge looked puzzled. 

“Your honor! The fact of his having left 
home in the first place involuntarily is admitted. 
But he has refused to return. His mother sent 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 245 

money for his passage to Buenos Ayres. He 
supposedly wasted the money and remained 
wilfully out of her jurisdiction.” 

Colonel Playfair?” queried the Judge. 

^^If Brother Maxwell is quite finished,” said 
the colonel, would like to state our side of 
the argument.” 

Continue,” said the Judge, 
am sorry to wash dirty linen in court,” 
Colonel Playfair said, quietly. “These family 
troubles would better be settled outside of the 
courtroom. But it seems necessary to place 
the full facts before your honor. It is not only 
a proven fact that Clinton Webb left home 
involuntarily; but there was a crime attached 
to his adventure. He was nailed into the cabin 
of his boat and the boat was cut adrift at the 
beginning of the September gale, two years 
ago this coming fall.” 

The spectators began to sit up and take 
notice. The affair was assuming a serious hue. 

“The person who committed this dastardly 
crime is known — ^known to Brother MaxwelFs 
client. This person, afraid of being arrested 
for his deed, actually did run away from home, 
went to Buenos Ayres, there represented him- 
self as Clinton Webb and obtained the money 
sent there by Mrs. Webb for her son, and is 
now, I understand, a member of the crew of the 
whaling bark, Scarboro, in the South Pacific, 
“These final facts are proven by a letter from 
the American consul at Buenos Ayres, sent to 


246 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


Mr. Houasditch, deceased, together with the 
amount of money which had been given to the 
false claimant by a clerk in the consuFs office. 
Does Mr. Maxwell wish me to state the name 
of the person who committed these criminal 
acts?’’ 

My uncle’s lawyer was evidently in a fine 
flurry. He jumped up to say: 

‘'We let the point pass for the present. But 
we claim that the minor child, Clinton Webb, 
has no standing in this court. He is on the 
high seas •” 

"Wrong, Brother Maxwell,” said the colonel, 
very sweetly. "He is here.” 

I saw Mr. Chester Downes start from his 
seat. He cried out something, but the Judge 
rapped his desk for order. 

"You say your client is present in court. 
Colonel?” he asked. 

"Clinton Webb! Come forward!” com- 
manded my lawyer, and that time Ham did 
not try to keep me in my seat. 

I marched down the aisle. Mr. Chester 
Downes saw me coming. His dark face never 
paled » the blood flooded into it, darkening it 
until his cheeks and brow were almost black. 

We looked at each other. There was no need 
for either to threaten the other. As of old, we 
were sworn enemies. And I believed that I 
had again crossed him in his most precious 
project. 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 247 

The colonel let me into the enclosure through 
the gate. 

^^You recognize your nephew, do you, Mr.. 
Downes?” asked the Judge. 

Chester Downes nodded. He could not speak. 

“And I understand that Clinton Webb, here 
before us, objects to the appointment of his 
uncle as co-trustee of the estate?” he asked 
the colonel. 

“He does,” was the brief reply. 

“What is your wish, then. Colonel?” asked 
Judge Fetter. “This matter, evidently, is not 
ready for closing today?” 

“No, your honor. We ask for a postpone- 
ment — that is all.” 

“Do you agree. Brother Maxwell?” asked 
the judge. 

Maxwell looked at his client. There was 
nothing else to do but to agree and Downes 
Imew it as well as the lawyer. 

“Oh, yes!” snarled Chester Downes. “We 
will have to fight, I see.” 

He and I had locked horns again - but he 
would not admit then that he was worsted. 

Colonel Playfair had a few moments’ whis- 
pered conversation with Judge Fetter, and then 
we went back to the lawyer’s office. Chester 
Downes and Maxwell had hastened away from 
the courthouse. My uncle did not try to speak 
to me — and I was glad. I am afraid I could not 
have controlled myself just then. 

There were some papers to sign and more 


248 


From Sea to Sea; or, 


discussion in Colonel Playfair’s office. He called 
in a brother practitioner, Mr. Charles Ahorn, 
and the matters were turned over to him. 
Colonel Playfair agreed to step into poor Mr. 
Hounsditch’s shoes, and be my guardian and 
co-trustee with my mother, if the other side 
could come to an agreement. I believed, 
when I had talked with my mother, that she 
would make no objection. 

Crafty as I knew my uncle to be, I could not 
beheve that he had so succeeded in warping 
my mother’s judgment that she would believe 
everything ill he had said of me. And I counted 
on her love as a surety. 

Much as she might disregard my personal 
opinion of Chester Downes, I was sure she 
would welcome me with open arms! 


Chapter XXX 

In Which My Welcome Home Is a Real Welcome^ 
After All 

Ham and I went back in the hack to the 
hotel, where we had dinner with Phillis, Dao 
Singh standing behind my chair, and waiting 
at table. I had an idea right then and there 
that James, the butler, would find his job in 
danger when we got settled at Darringford 
House. 

Briefly, while we ate, I related some of my 
adventures to my old friend. Particularly 
those that had to do with Philly and the Hin- 
doo. 

^Ht beats all — ^it sure does!’’ Ham kept re- 
peating, and could scarcely keep his eyes off 
the turbanned servant. 

When we drove through the wide gateway 
to the grounds surrounding Darringford House, 
I saw the flutter of a light dress upon the veran- 
dah. When we rounded the turn in the drive 
and the shrubbery was past, I knew my mother 
was standing there. But I certainly was 
amazed to see Chester Downes sitting in one 
of the arm chairs. No matter what happened, 
he never owned up beat! I had to hand it to 
him there. 


250 


From Sea to Sea ; or, 


But I saw what he was up to immediately. 
He had hurried ahead to break the news of 
my coming to my mother, and to lay plans for 
his continued influence in the house. My 
mother and the estate were practically his 
bread and butter. I knew that well enough. 

But nothing then could spoil the joy of my 
home-coming. I tore open the door of the 
hack before it stopped and leaped out. Mother 
rushed into my arms as I came up the step and 
I swung her up off the ground — she was such 
a httle, dainty woman! — ^and I knew that 
she had never ceased to love me. 

Clint! Clint !^^ she sobbed. “My dear, 
dear boy!” 

“Hug me again, mother!” I returned, trying 
to laugh, but making a poor mess of it. “This 
is the happiest minute I Ve seen for two years. ” 

“And how youVe grown!” she gasped, 
pushing me off a bit so that she could look me 
over better. 

“And you haven’t grown a bit!” I laughed, 
and swung her again until she was breathless. 

“And I hope you have got enough of the 
awful sea and sea-going!” she cried. “Oh, 
Clint! You will stay at home now?” 

“I certainly hope to,” I returned, casting a 
meaning glance at Chester Downes, who had 
risen, with a false smile on his face, and his 
hand outstretched. 

But in spite of the fact that at that moment 
I meant all that I said, and had not the remotest 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 251 

idea that I should ever go to sea again, circum- 
stances not then dreamed of changed my in- 
tentions later; and the reader who so desires 
may follow my further course afloat in the 
fourth volume of this series, entitled: ^^The 
Ocean Express; or, Clint Webb Aboard the 
Sea Tramp.” 

Then my mother caught sight of PhiUy and 
Dao Singh. They had stepped out of the hack 
and the tall Hindoo, in his oriental costume, 
stood gravely behind the little golden haired 
beauty. She looked like a story out of some 
Eastern Fairy Tale, and Dao Singh just set 
her off nicely. 

^^The pretty child!” mother murmured, clasp- 
ing her hands, and I know that at that instant 
her heart went out to Phillis Duane. 

Philly was looking up at her with a bashful 
little smile; yet the golden lights in her brown 
eyes were dancing. She had laughed to see 
how I had caught my httle mother up off the 
ground. 

^‘Who is she, Clinton?” mother asked. 

‘^My sister,” I told her, proudly. 

^‘What?’’ gasped mother, and I saw Chester 
Downes echo the word, but in a whisper. I 
could imagine the start my announcement gave 
him. And yet, my statement could not explain 
all that I saw in my uncle’s face as he glared 
at little Phillis. It was not until afterward, 
however, that I remembered how startled 
Chester Downes was. 


252 


From Sea to Sea; or, 


That’s what we’ve agreed to, mother,” 
I said, smiling, too, at my pretty little friend. 

We have adopted each other. Now it remains 
with you to take Phillis Duane right into your 
heart along with me.” 

^^The dear, dear child!” mother murmured, 
and went down the verandah steps to meet the 
girl. 

know I shall love you, dearly! dearly!” 
cried Philly, and put her arms around mother’s 
neck as the latter stooped over her. 

Dao Singh made a low obeisance. Mother 
looked rather startled at him and then turned 
to me. 

^^Dao Singh,” I explained, ^^has had much 
care of Phillis since she was little. He insists 
upon attending upon her-— — ” 

^^And upon the Webb Sahib,” concluded 
the Hindoo, gravely. “ It is well that the little 
Memsahib and Webb Sahib, come in health 
to Her Ladyship, on whom be peace and health. 
Dao Singh is her servant.” 

He bent low again, took up the hem of my 
mother’s voluminous summer dress, and pressed 
it to his forehead. Mother looked amazed, 
and well she might — sl new daughter and such 
a kingly serving person thrust upon her so 
unexpectedly. I had to laugh. 

'‘Your Ladyship will get used to it in time. 
As a man before the mast in an old windjammer, 
being served by an oriental prince has its draw- 
baclS} but you’ll get used to it, Little Mum!” 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 253 

But mother’s interest was soon fixed entirely 
upon Phillis, and with her hand upon the child’s 
shoulder, she urged her up the steps. There 
Chester Downes was hanging about, eager to 
be noticed, anxious to come into the picture. 

^^Your Uncle Chester, Clinton,” said mother, 
^^has been so kind to me while you were away. ” 

I said nothing. She glanced from my face 
to his, and then back again, and her lips began 
to tremble. 

^^Oh! I hoped that you would meet him dif- 
ferently now, Clinton,” she said. 

‘T am sorry if I consider Mr. Downes just 
what he was before I went away. Any house 
would be uncomfortable if both of us remained 
in it. Can I speak plainer? ” 

^^You don’t need to, boy!” snarled Mr. 
Downes, his face reddening again. 

^'Colonel Playfair will probably see you at 
any time you wish to call on him — either he or 
Mr. Charles Aborn,” I said, pointedly, ^^They 
have my affairs in charge.” 

Mother did not hear. She was talking with 
Phillis. And Mr. Downes, after a brief hesita- 
tion, went down the steps and through the 
shrubbery to the street. 

I took the chair upon the other side of Philly 
and Dao Singh, like a gaily painted life-size 
statue, stood at a respectable distance. Briefly 
we told mother the story of the little girl’s 
adventures; and as I well knew mother received 
the waif with joy. 


254 


From Sea to Sea ; or. 


has been a great sorrow all his life, my 
child, mother said, drawing Philly upon her 
lap, ^'that Clint had no sister. A boy is a 
great comfort to a widowed woman; but he 
cannot take the place of a daughter. Love 
me, my child, if you can. 

And I knew by the way that the child threw 
her arms about mother’s neck and sobbed upon 
her breast, that she had already begun to love 
my mother. Philly’s heart had been sore for 
just the sort of protective care my mother could 
give her. I saw that my scheme was going to 
be a huge success! 

With Chester Downes out of the way my 
home-coming was all that I could have hoped 
for. The help around the house welcomed 
me with delight, too. Even my mother’s 
French maid, Marie Portent, gave me a wintry 
smile — and I had never been a favorite with 
her. 

The neighbors came in to see me, too, for 
the news had spread all over town that I had 
come back from my wanderings. Mr. Chester 
Downes had not succeeded in turning every- 
body against me. 

But you may believe I got into some decent 
clothes before I held any reception. Then I 
went down town and wired Thankful Polk a 
hundred dollars and the news that everything 
was O. K. with me. 

^^Now we will go to Bolderhead and open 
the house for the rest of the summer,” mother 


Clint Webb’s Cruise on the Windjammer 255 

said that very evening. I could not bear to 
open it without you, dear boy. ” 

We kept off the subject of the Downes just 
then; but I might as well state right here that 
Mr. Chester Downes was not appointed by 
the court co-trustee with my mother. Colonel 
Playfair waSy and that before we closed Dar- 
rin^ord house and went to live in mother’s 
summer villa on Bolderhead Neck. 

Thankful Polk came north to visit us, too; 
and mother was greatly pleased with him. 
Dao Singh, as I foresaw, soon made it advisable 
for us to find another situation for James, our 
butler. Singh actually, when we got to Bolder- 
head, took the entire responsibility of the 
housekeeping upon himself, and mother thank- 
fully declared that she had never had so easy 
a time before, nor had the household been run 
so smoothly. 

For the first time since I could remember 
Mr. Chester Downes did not go to Bolderhead 
with us. I had no friction over it, and mother 
was not troubled. Colonel Playfair knew how 
to bring things about. I liked him a whole 
lot better for a guardian than I had Mr. Houns- 
ditch. 

As for my cousin Paul, when he returned 
home — ^if he ever did — knew I had a method of 
keeping him at a distance. The threat of 
punishment for what he had done to me still 
hung over him like a sword of Damocles. 

It was not many weeks before I had a letter 


256 


From Sea to Sea 


from Mr. Jim Barney. Among other interesting 
items of news, he stated that both he and his 
brother had been exonerated together with 
Captain Bowditch in the matter of the collision 
and the sinking of the Seamew. If blame lay 
anywhere it was upon poor Captain Somes, who 
had gone down with his ship. 

As to the Barney brothers^ private affairs, 
they had both refused their uncle’s offer of 
money and position. As long as the old man 
would not divide his wealth between them and 
give both of them an opportunity of entering 
the shipping firm, Jim and Aff had resigned 
and were going to sail upon ships belonging to 
other owners. That seemed to them to be the 
best and final settlement of the matter. 

I often thought of my long cruise in the Wind- 
jammer, and I could not say that I was sorry 
for having gone through those adventures. 
I certainly was not sorry that they had brought 
about the coming of Phillis Duane to our 
house. For, as the weeks flew by, the British 
consul heard nothing regarding the girl’s friends 
or relatives. 

It looked as though she was ours ^‘for keeps,” 
as Thank said; and both my mother and I were 
satisfied. 


THE END. 








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